


Nesting

by roruna



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adoption, Again, Bad Cooking, Canon Compliant, Crime Fighting, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Gen, House Hunting, Humor, I Made Myself Cry, Implied Relationships, Lullabies, Mad Science, More action than I planned, Pre-Relationship, Steelbeak would hurt a child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23814307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roruna/pseuds/roruna
Summary: Drake has just adopted Gosalyn. After leaving the orphanage, Drake, Gosalyn and Launchpad go house hunting. But finding the right house is going to take time. A reasonable price, space for Gosalyn to play outside and three bedrooms weren't just going to fall out of the sky. Until then, they'd stay with Launchpad at the airplane hangar. They were making a home."Sequel" to Wild Horses, though you don't have to read it.
Relationships: Drake Mallard & Gosalyn Mallard, Drake Mallard/Launchpad McQuack
Comments: 111
Kudos: 132





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was too excited to wait until I was finished to post this! I originally planned for this to be an epilogue to Wild Horses but this chapter was just so clear in my mind while the rest is a bit fuzzy. I'll be adding more as soon as I can. It's just that this story isn't over until they move next door to the Muddlefoots.

Gosalyn bounced in her seat. 

"So we going back to your hideout? Since you're hurt has Launchpad been filling in as Darkwing? Can I have a turn?" Gosalyn asked, looking from the passenger side window and then poking her head between the front row seats. 

"No you cannot have a turn," Drake said, nudging Gosalyn back to her seat. "No one's been filling in. I'm the only Darkwing Duck in this town."

"So you're fighting crime like that?" She gasped. "You can't do that! You could die!"

"I'm not an idiot," Drake complained. "I've been taking a sabbatical to recover."

"So you left the town unprotected?" She asked. 

"Are you just asking so I'll let you fill in for me or did you just want to guilt trip me for kicks?" He asked. 

"I was just asking," she sulked.

"DW's been letting the police handle things for now," Launchpad explained. 

After a few failed attempts, Launchpad parallel parked in front of a newly built skyscraper named St. Canard Luxury Condominiums. 

"Here's our first stop," Drake announced. 

"It looks like a video game glitch," Gosalyn said. 

It was a perfect smooth black rectangle until about two thirds of the way up and then it looked like a video game background missing several pixels. 

"It's modern," Drake insisted. 

The realtor, a tall flamingo in a charcoal grey blazer and pencil skirt, was waiting for them in the lobby in front of the elevators. 

"You must be Drake Mallard," she said, offering her right hand. "I'm Karen Birdton of Birdton Realty."

"Nice to meet you, this Launchpad McQuack and my daughter, Gosalyn," he replied. 

"Why hello there, Gosalyn," Karen said in a tooth rottingly sweet voice. 

The interior of the condo was as modern as the facade. The walls and carpet were so white, they were almost blue. The living room featured a fourth wall that was a pure floor to ceiling window. 

"Keen gear!" Gosalyn said, running to the window. 

She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to the glass.

"Check it out, if you look down, it feels like you're falling!" She exclaimed. 

Launchpad joined her.

"A little bit, yeah," he admitted. 

"Don't lean on the window, you might break it," Drake said.

"Well," Karen said, clearing her throat, "this unit has two bedrooms and two baths. All the kitchen appliances were bought and installed this year. If you follow me, I'll show you the master bedroom."

The master bedroom was empty. Throw in a step ladder and a dead body and it could be a modern art installation. It had a walk-in closet and ensuite bathroom. Karen opened the bathroom door. 

Unlike the walls and flooring of the rest of the condo, the bathroom was done in a tasteful black marble. 

"The tub includes jacuzzi jets and is big enough to fit  _ two  _ people," she added.

Drake's face burned. He didn't dare look at Launchpad. 

"That's pretty fancy, DW," Launchpad said, seeming oblivious to the atmosphere. 

"Yup," Drake squeaked. "It's very nice."

"Let me tell you about some of the building's amenities," Karen continued, moving to the kitchen with black marble floor and countertops. "There are swimming pools on the first, 15th and top floors. And the building features a rooftop community garden where you can grow anything you like within the limits imposed by the condo board association." 

Gosalyn skidded around the kitchen island on her socks. 

"This floor is so cool, I bet you could play hockey in here," she said and was suddenly holding a hockey stick and puck.

Seriously where had they even come from? She hopped onto the kitchen island and swung as soon as the puck touched the marble. The puck ricocheted off the fridge and ceiling fan before shooting out the window, leaving a huge hole in the glass. Outside, there were the faint sounds of tires screeching, car horns honking and a single crash. 

Drake gulped and chuckled. He tugged on his collar as he met the realtor's eye.

"I can p-p-pay to replace-"

"GET OUT!" Karen bellowed.

"Yup," Drake said, picking up Gosalyn and zipping out the door. "No problem! Launchpad, grab Gos' shoes!"

The first few minutes of the car ride were silent. Gosalyn folded into herself, occasionally glancing at the rearview mirror. She gulped at Drake's reflected scowl. 

"That window replacement is coming straight outta your allowance, young lady," he said. 

"So you're not sending me back to the orphanage?" She asked. 

"For a broken window? Of course not," he scoffed. "If that's all it took, I woulda sent Launchpad to the orphanage months ago."

Gosalyn exhaled. 

"That place was too stuffy anyway," he said. "I mean, you need some space outside to play because you are  _ forbidden  _ from playing sports inside."

"What about bowling? That's not like a real sport," she said. 

"Yes, that included bowling. And it is too a real sport. They show it on the sports channel." he replied. 

"So I don't have to do spelling homework, right?" She asked. 

"Of course you do, why wouldn't you?" He asked. 

"They show the national championship spelling bee on the sports channel," she said. 

Drake pursed his beak. Launchpad pulled into a parking lot.

"Here's contestant number two," Launchpad announced. 

The next house was a little place on the boardwalk. They dodged roller bladers and joggers as they approached. An aging hippie hippo stood at the rusty gate.

"Greetings, dudes and dudette," he said. "I'm River Willow."

"Uh… greetings," Drake replied. "I'm Drake Mallard, that's Launchpad McQuack and this is my daughter Gosalyn."

"Righteous," River replied. "Come on in, mi casa es su casa. Hopefully, I mean."

They followed River inside. Drake made a mental note of the peeling paint of the front door and facade. The inside was cozier than he'd expected. The floor was terracotta tile and the ceiling was wood. 

"Let me tell you some of the house's history," River said as Drake and family wandered the living room and dining area. 

"Back in the 60s, my parents and their commune built the little houses on this street but like fifteen years ago, people started selling out so now this is the only place that isn't owned by a vacation rental company," he lamented. "I've had offers from the suits but I'd rather sell the place to people with souls, y'know?"

"I get it," Drake said. 

River led them upstairs to the bedrooms. The master bedroom here was noticeably smaller than the spare bedroom at the condo had been but it boasted a little balcony with an ocean view. Drake and Launchpad leaned on the balcony railing, taking in the sound and smell of the ocean. 

"Can you imagine waking up to this view every morning?" Drake asked. 

"It's really something," Launchpad agreed. 

Gosalyn joined them. Drake put his arm around her shoulders. 

"Whatcha think, Gos?" He asked. "You'd have the whole beach to play in."

"Keen gear," she said. "I could go surfing wherever I want. I bet I could see a shark!"

"Whoa, let's not get too crazy," he said. 

River showed them the upstairs bathroom. It was okay. 

"I had a half bath installed downstairs a couple years ago," he told them. 

The second bedroom wasn't as impressive as the master bedroom. It had a shuttered window that could hold a window box but that was it. 

"This was my room as a kid," he said. "Back in the day, I could squeeze through that window to sneak out but not anymore."

Gosalyn peered out the window. She chuckled suspiciously. 

"There's something to look forward to in your teen years," Drake grumbled. 

"So what do you think, my dudes?" River asked. 

"It definitely has an approachable charm," Drake said. 

"I should warn you," River said. "The rest of these places are empty except for spring break and summer vacation. So you're not going to get anything in terms of community bond. And obviously, during the peak times, the neighbors get pretty rowdy."

Well, if it meant not dealing with nosy neighbors the rest of the time, Drake could handle the occasional party animal.

"I don't mind," Drake said. 

"So there's no other kids around?" Gosalyn asked. 

"Sorry, little dudette," River said. "No one lives around here anymore. But the beach is pretty busy on weekends so it's not all just frat boys and surf punks."

Well, no place was going to be perfect. And Darkwing Duck couldn't be intimidated by a bunch of beach bums anyway. 

"Well, we really do like the place," Drake said. "How much did you want for it?"

River told him. Drake slapped him.

Gosalyn looked at Drake's reflection in the rearview mirror. He still pursed his beak. His arms were still crossed. 

"If River sues us, the legal fees are coming out of  _ your  _ allowance," she said. 

"Ha ha," Drake replied. "Let's just go home, LP. I'm beat."

"But Launchpad hasn't gotten to tick off any realtors yet," Gosalyn complained. "It's his turn."

"I'm sure Launchpad's antagonized plenty of people in the real estate industry just with his driving," Drake said. 

"Nuh uh," Launchpad said. "Folks in construction love me. The builder's association sends me a birthday card every year."

Drake and Gosalyn shared a look through the rearview mirror. She giggled. 

They went home. Well, the hangar, anyway. Launchpad went straight for the kitchen. Gosalyn and Drake stopped at the living room. 

"DW wanted to make sure you had a nutritious, home cooked meal on your first night here," Launchpad called out. 

"So no pizza?" Gosalyn asked. 

"Nope, your wellbeing is my top priority so that means making sure you eat healthy," Drake decreed. 

"So what are we having?" She asked. 

"Baked salmon and steamed spinach," Drake answered. 

Gosalyn made a face. 

"It's good for you," he replied. "Lots of iron and omega 3's."

"But if you're busy cooking, then how will we get to bond?" Gosalyn asked, batting her eyes and with her hands behind her back. 

Drake leaned forward. He put his hand on her head, ruffling her hair. 

"Nice try, kiddo," he said. "Anyway, the recipe's so easy, Launchpad will have no problem-"

"Hey, DW, how long do I wash the salmon for?"

Drake prayed that he was just rinsing it under the tap but then caught the telltale scent of dish soap and fish. He met Gosalyn's eyes. She just grinned up at him. 

"Never mind, LP. I'll order us Chinese," he called out, keeping his eyes locked with hers. "Just make sure you eat  _ all  _ the broccoli in the beef and broccoli."

All the broccoli in the beef and broccoli was gone by the end of dinner though Drake wasn't convinced that any had entered Gosalyn's beak. But the great detective wasn't going to throw accusations around with no evidence. Anyway, the pain medication was making him drowsy. 

"Bedtime, Gos," he announced. 

"Seriously? But I'm not tired," she whined. 

"Bedtime isn't when you're tired, bedtime is when dad's tired," he said. 

She followed him through the shower curtain hanging on a wash line that acted as a room divider. A bunk bed was pressed against the wall. A smaller bed was next to the bottom bunk.

"I promise you'll have your own room in the new house," he said. "A-and we can move your bed wherever you want."

She smiled. It had been a year since she'd had her own room. At the orphanage, her bed was just one in a long line. There was always someone snoring, talking in their sleep, kicking… or crying themselves to sleep. 

"It's fine where it is," she said.

A yawn caught her by surprise. 

"C'mon, gotta brush your teeth before we both pass out," he yawned. 

They brushed in front of a dinky little sink at the same time so there was no way for Gosalyn to get out of it tonight. 

"Well, good night," she said as soon as she was done brushing. 

"You still need to floss," he grumbled through a beak full of foam.

She groaned but he tossed her a little box of mint waxed floss. She turned away from the mirror. So long as she did the arm motions, he'd never know. He spun her around. 

"It's more effective when you use  _ floss,"  _ he said after spitting out the toothpaste foam.

Once teeth were acceptably clean, Darkwing changed into his nightshirt. Gosalyn took off her sneakers and shoved them under the little bed.

"Drat, we forgot your stuff," he said as she climbed into bed. "I was in such a rush to get you outta there today."

"It's okay, it's just clothes and stuff anyway," she said, taking the photo of her and her grandfather out of a pocket. 

"We'll pick everything up tomorrow," he assured her. "Looks like you have the most important thing already."

"Yeah," she said, looking at the photo. 

"We'll have to get a nice frame for it so it doesn't get messed up," he yawned again. 

He got into the bottom bunk. He turned off the little lamp on the nightstand. The hangar was dark except for a faint glow coming from Launchpad's "office". 

"How you been sleeping?" He asked, struggling not to nod off yet.

"Fine, I guess," she replied with a shrug. “Haven’t really thought about it.”

“Okay,” he yawned again.

Gosalyn turned to her side. Darkwing was already asleep. She turned onto her back again. She shut her eyes. She opened her eyes. She turned onto her stomach.

“Gos, if you can’t sleep, you can just say so,” he said. “You weren’t this bashful back at the tower.”

She thought she’d been so quiet. But he was right. When she’d stayed at the tower, she’d wasted no time letting him know that she couldn’t sleep. But that had been months ago. Nowadays, it always took some time for her to fall asleep. 

“I guess not,” she mumbled, laying on her back again. 

His hand patted her head and stayed there.

_ “Close your eyes, little girl blue, inside of you lies a rainbow.” _

Grandpa’s lullaby? He still remembered it?

_ “Yellow, blue, red blue, purple too, blue purple and green, then the yellow.” _

She shut her eyes. 

_ “Rest your head little girl blue, come paint your dreams on your pillow.” _

She reached up, taking his hand from the top of her head, just so she could hold it.

_ “I'll be near to chase away fear, so sleep now and dream till tomorrow.” _

_ “I'll be near to chase away fear, so sleep now and dream till tomorrow.” _

Her tiny fingers squeezed themselves in between his. How could hands ever be so tiny? 

“Good night, Gosalyn,” he whispered, his heart in his throat.

“Good night, D…”

The word turned into a snore.  _ Darkwing,  _ he whispered to himself. Good night  _ Darkwing.  _ That’s what she must have meant. Maybe one day she’d call him ‘Dad’. Maybe not. It was okay if she never did. In every other sense, he was her father now. Nothing would ever take her from him now. His heart was beating too fast to sleep now. He listened to her breathe. Her snoring was still as loud as he remembered. He smiled. 

A few minutes later, Launchpad tiptoed to the bed. The bunk bed ladder creaked under his weight.

“Sorry, DW,” he whispered. “I just wanted to give you two some privacy.”

“It’s okay, LP,” he whispered after confirming Gosalyn was still asleep. “Thank you. Good night.”

“Night.”

His eyelids were getting heavier but he didn’t want to stop watching Gosalyn. He gave her hand a slight squeeze just to be sure she was still there, still real. He wasn’t entirely sure this moment was real. The world was quiet. He had his daughter by his side and his… Launchpad close. There would never be another moment as perfect as this-

Launchpad started snoring, filling in the quiet gaps Gosalyn’s snoring had left behind. Silence was obliterated. There was no hope of falling asleep now.

“I can’t live like this,” he sighed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drake meets the Muddlefoots.

First stop the next morning was the orphanage. Launchpad pulled up in front.

"You sure you don't want me to go in with you?" He asked. 

"I think I can handle a little girl's suitcase," Drake replied. 

"Okay, I'll just drop you off here and look for a spot," Launchpad said.

"Just like last time, huh?" Gosalyn said. 

Drake remembered the last time Launchpad dropped him off and the orphanage door to look for a place to park. 

"You know what, you might as well all come," he said. 

Drake and Gosalyn walked hand in hand down the orphanage corridor. It was the weekend so the halls were full of children. She waved to a couple of them. Then one boy leading an entourage of smaller boys said loud enough for Gosalyn hear,

"Hah! They brought Waddlemayer back! I told you, you owe me five bucks, Ricky."

"Why don't you shut your fat face, Dave!" Gosalyn screamed as they passed. 

Drake tightened his grip on Gosalyn's hand. She looked up at him and the brief rage she'd shown disappeared.

"I'll help you pack, we don't want to forget anything," Drake said softly. "I never wanna come back here."

"Yeah," she breathed. 

Gosalyn filled a backpack with clothes and a steamer trunk with sports equipment. Launchpad and Drake were struggling to stuff it into the trunk of the car when Mrs. Cavanaugh ran up to them. 

"Gosalyn, did you take all the orphanage's hockey equipment?"

"No one else uses it," she argued. 

"Gosalyn…"

"Can I at least keep the rollerskates?"

"Launchpad, could you return it?" Drake asked. 

"Sure, DW," he said.

He and the orphanage director walked back with the steamer trunk. Drake and Gosalyn stood in awkward silence for a minute. 

"I'll buy you some rollerskates if you promise to be good today," he said. 

"Define 'good'," she said. 

"No destruction of property," he said. 

"Okay and if you're good you don't have to buy me ice skates today," she said. 

"What!" He exclaimed. He took a deep breath. "Define good."

"No assaulting homeowners," she said. "Or realtors."

Launchpad drove them to an old apartment complex with a large courtyard. Even as they walked through the parking lot, they could already hear the sound of children screaming and laughing. They walked into the leasing office. A man rose from his desk to greet them with a huge smile.

“You must be Mr. Mallard,” the man said offering his hand.

Then he noticed Launchpad. The smile vanished. 

“Didn’t you crash a plane into my car last month?” He said.

“We’ll just go,” Drake offered.

“Good.”

Drake, Launchpad and Gosalyn vegged on the old couch in the hangar. Drake couldn’t face another hostile housing professional. Suddenly sleeping on the bottom bunk between two redheads that snored like the military air base during flying drills for the rest of his life didn’t seem so unreasonable. The phone rang.

“Can someone get that please?” Drake said.

“Not it,” Gosalyn said.

Launchpad sighed and went to the phone. 

“McQuack Hangar,” he said when he picked up. A moment later, he said, “sure, one second.”

He covered the mouthpiece. “DW, it’s the social worker-”

Drake leaped at Launchpad, knocking him back. He snatched the phone from Launchpad while a ring of tweeting birds flew around the pilot’s head.

“Hello?” Drake said more desperately than he meant to.

“Hi, Mr. Mallard,” she said pleasantly. “Just checking to see how you and Gosalyn are doing.”

“Great, we’re just peachy,” he squeaked, anxiously twirling the phone cord. “Gos, honey, do you want to say hi to the social worker?”

Gosalyn shrugged but walked over. She took the phone. 

“Hi Ms. Beatriz,” she said.

“Hi, Gosalyn, how was your first day with Drake and Launchpad?” She asked.

“Okay, we went to look at houses and had chinese food for dinner. I had to eat  _ broccoli,”  _ she complained.

Drake heard Ms. Beatriz chuckle at the other end. 

“Other than having to eat vegetables, how do you like living with them?” she asked.

“It’s good,” she said. “I’m going to get some rollerblades after we look at more houses.”

“That sounds great,” she said. “Can I talk to your dad now?”

“Okay,” she said, handing the phone back.

“Hello?” Drake’s voice cracked.

“Gosalyn seems well,” she assured him. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know. I’m not just going to take Gosalyn on a whim.”

“I-I’m not afraid of you,” Drake said, forcing out a chuckle. “W-we both want the same thing, right? For Gosalyn to be happy, isn’t that what you said?”

“Exactly,” she said kindly. “How’s the house hunt going?”

“Okay, just want to find just the right place,” he said.

“If you’re having trouble finding a place, I know a good realtor. Do you want her number?”

“Sure, that would be great,” he said.

She gave him the realtor’s contact details.

“Good luck with the house hunt. I’ll call you next week,” she said. 

“Terrific!” 

Drake flopped back on top of Launchpad after hanging up. That brief phone conversation drained more of his strength than any night of crime fighting. Gosalyn giggled.

“So the terror that flaps in the night is scared of Ms. Beatriz,” she teased.

“I’m not scared of Ms. Beatriz,” he replied, keeping his eyes fixed on the hangar’s ceiling. “Just of what she represents.”

“Which is?” Gosalyn prompted.

“I need to call the realtor,” he said, not only dodging the question but fleeing it.

Launchpad drove down Avian Way. 

"So which one is it, DW?" He asked. 

"Hang on, lemme check," Drake said, digging around the glove compartment for the post-it note with the address.

"537," he said. 

"These houses are nice," Gosalyn said, her forehead and hands pressed against the car window. 

"Yeah but they're kinda bland," Drake said. 

"Well, that's good isn't it?" She replied. "No one's going to suspect that Darkwing Duck lives in the suburbs, right?"

He tilted his head. She had a point. Launchpad pulled into the driveway. A large For Sale sign stuck out of the front yard. Before they could knock, the door opened. 

"Hi, you must be Drake Mallard," a parrot in a pantsuit said. "I'm Chelsea Parrotti. Come in, come in."

The inside… was empty. It was a house that had been on the market for a long time. What else was there to say about it? 

"There are three bedrooms and an attic," she said. 

There was a kitchen, a garage, a backyard. 

"St. Canard elementary is about three blocks away and is in the top ten percent of test scores in town," she said. 

She led them to the backyard. Next door, on the other side of the hedge, a large goose in a Hawaiian shirt was barbecuing burgers. 

"Hi, Herb!"

"Well, howdy, Miss Parrotti," Herb replied. "Binkie, Miss Parrotti's back."

A slim canary wearing an apron and pearls joined Herb.

"Why hello, Chelsea," she said. "Showing the house next door to some buyers?" 

"You know it," she replied. 

Binkie fixed her attention on Drake and Launchpad. 

"Binkie Muddlefoot, that's my husband Herb and our two boys, Tank and Honker."

Tank, a large boy, was giving Honker, a tiny kid with glasses a noogie.

"Drake Mallard," he said, smiling stiffly. "This is my daughter, Gosalyn and this is my…"

Drake hesitated. He couldn't exactly call Launchpad his sidekick, could he?

"Launchpad," he blurted out. 

_ My Launchpad? Seriously?  _

"Oh you'll just  _ love _ living here," Binkie began. "The PTA is very active here. Did you just move to St. Canard? Herb, why don't you sponsor Drake and Launchpad's membership for the Lodge?"

"That's a terrific idea, Binkie," Herb replied. "Say, why don't you join us for some burgers and the Pelican's Island marathon?"

How expensive could a pair of little girl's ice skates be anyway, Drake wondered.

"Maybe later, Herb," Miss Parrotti interrupted and was already leading Drake away. "We've got a lot more houses to look at."

Drake exhaled once they were back inside the house. 

"The Muddlefoots are overwhelming but they're pretty sweet," she explained. "Except for Tank." She added darkly.

"I'd rather live next to a raccoon sanctuary, actually," Drake said. "What else have you got?"

Miss Parrotti drove them to her next listing.

"This is the only other place in St. Canard in your price range," she said. "And it is definitely  _ not  _ a tugboat tipped over and sinking into a swamp."

"That's because it's an estuary," Drake said. 

She avoided his eyes. 

"How long have you had that other listing?" He asked. 

"Uh… five years," she admitted. 

"Okay and what happened to the previous owners?"

"They gave away all their possessions and went to live in a desert commune," she said. 

"So how many bedrooms does this tugboat have?" Drake asked. 

"DW…" Launchpad said.

The drive home was tense.

"I don't see the problem," Drake complained. "It's a good price, it's near my hideout and far away from the Muddlefoots."

"It's also sinking into a swamp," Launchpad said. 

"It's not a swamp," he replied. 

"I think I saw a lady in an evening gown stab a clown," Gosalyn said. 

"She didn't  _ stab  _ him," he said. 

"And two dogs fighting," she said. 

"They were playing," he corrected.

"To the death," she added. 

"DW, we don't have to move anywhere," he said, pulling into the hangar parking lot. "I don't mind if we all stayed here."

"C'mon, LP, we can't crash with you forever," Drake said. 

"Crash?" He repeated. 

"Uh oh," Gosalyn said under her breath. 

"Yeah, I mean, once I'm better, Gosalyn and I can get outta your hair," he said. 

"But I thought you wanted me to be your sidekick," he said. 

"We don't have to live together to fight crime. I'll come pick you up in the Ratcatcher and we can go patrolling. We'll see each other every day," Drake said. 

"Yeah… sure…" Launchpad mumbled. 

Launchpad went into the hangar, dragging his feet. Gosalyn hopped out of the car, already wearing her brand new roller skates. 

"I thought Launchpad was going to live with us," she said as Drake climbed out. "I think he did too."

"Honestly you're both acting like I'm leaving him forever. We're going to see him all the time," he insisted. 

"But it's not the same," she whined. 

"Gos, can we please talk about this some other time?" He asked. 

"Whatever," she huffed, skating into the hangar. 

"Take those skates off when you're inside," he yelled.

"No!" She yelled back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This seemed like a good stopping point even though left this chapter pretty short. There's still more to come, don't worry. 
> 
> It's fine if Drake lives with just his daughter and abandons his soulmate like an old shoe to live on a garbage street full of jerks, right?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving day.

The next morning, Darkwing woke up and found Gosalyn's bed empty but messy. His heart stopped until he heard the faint sounds of cartoons coming from the TV area. He peaked through the room divider. She was slouching on the couch, balancing a bowl of sugary cereal on her lap. He let out a breath. 

He was almost done making her bed when he noticed that the top bunk hadn't been touched. He'd made all the beds the previous morning and Launchpad's bed still had the crisp hospital corners he'd made. 

Come to think of it, Darkwing had slept through the night, not waking up once because of Launchpad's snoring or the bed creaking. He looked over to Launchpad's ticket booth/security shed/office. The light was still on.

Launchpad was asleep at the desk, snoring louder than usual. Darkwing shook his shoulder. 

"LP," he said. "C'mon, buddy wake up."

"Chums on my thumbs," Launchpad mumbled in his sleep. 

"Launchpad!" Darkwing exclaimed. 

Launchpad sat up suddenly. His head knocked Darkwing's beak up into his face. 

"You didn't come to bed last night," Darkwing said after fixing his beak. 

_ What are you? His wife?  _ Darkwing  started blushing all on his own. 

"I had to catch up on paperwork," he yawned. In a colder voice, he said, "have you decided which house you're buying?"

Darkwing exhaled and hopped onto Launchpad's desk.

"I dunno," he admitted. "I know Avian Way is better but…"

"You'd really prefer to live on a sinking boat over having annoying neighbors?" He asked. 

"It's not just that they're annoying," Darkwing insisted. "It's-"

"What they represent?" Launchpad interrupted. 

"Yes, Mr. Clever Clogs," he replied. "Making small talk every morning while getting the newspaper, competing over who has the nicest lawn, dodging invasive questions about my job. I can just imagine Binkie filing a noise complaint because of the Ratcatcher. I'd rather eat tacks than deal with all that."

"And what's Ms. Beatriz going to think of Gosalyn living in a sinking tugboat?" He asked. 

Darkwing groaned. He fell backwards, sprawling on the desk. 

"Look, I know I have to move nextdoor to the Muddlefoots, okay," he whined. "Can't you just let me pretend I'm not for a few more minutes?"

"You can still stay here," Launchpad reminded him. "Or is living with me worse than the Muddlefoots?"

"Of course not," he said. "It'd be perfect if I didn't need to sleep everyday. You sound like a buzzsaw having a fight with a jet engine."

Launchpad chuckled. Their eyes met. Darkwing looked away first, clearing his throat. 

"She did say three bedrooms, didn't she?" He asked. 

"Yup," he answered. 

"Do you… want to come live with me and Gos?" Darkwing asked. "For keeps, not just crashing."

"Well…" Launchpad said. 

"Please, LP," Darkwing pleaded. "I'm sorry I took you for granted. I wouldn't have gotten through the last six months without you. And Gosalyn would really miss you…  _ I  _ would miss you."

Launchpad smiled softly. Darkwing responded with an awkward smile. His face felt hot again. 

"I'd love to," Launchpad said. 

Darkwing coughed to hide his embarrassment. 

"G-great, I'll call Parrotti and her let know," he said, picking up the rotary phone handset. 

Darkwing sat down on the couch. Gosalyn scooched to the other end. She could have just been making room but Darkwing's keen powers of deduction suggested otherwise by the way she glared at the TV screen. 

"You still mad at me?" He asked.

She didn't say anything. Choosing instead to stuff a heaping spoonful of sugary cereal in her mouth. 

"I never did ask you what you thought about Avian Way," he remarked. "You guys know how I feel about living there but what about you?"

"S'fine," she mumbled with a shrug. 

"I asked Launchpad to come live with us there," he finally said.

"Came to your senses, huh?" She asked after swallowing her mouthful of cereal. 

"I wasn't seriously going to make us live on that death boat, I'm not an idiot," he said. 

"Coulda fooled me," she said. "But I was talking about Launchpad,"

"Oh uh, yeah, I guess," he replied. 

"Good," she said. 

He shouldn't have felt relieved to appease his daughter but he did. Just who was supposed to be in charge here, anyway?

Moving day came much sooner than Drake expected. He thought he'd be out of the casts before the house was officially his but he still had another week to go. He'd sent Gosalyn next door to play with the Muddlefoot boys because a.) she didn't want to spend a single day of summer vacation schlepping and b.) Drake suspected that even if she  _ wanted  _ to help, she'd do more harm than good. Unfortunately, this left Launchpad with the bulk of the lifting. 

Launchpad's legs wobbled. He had Drake's mattress and a rickety tower of boxes on his back and was just waiting for Drake to unlock the front door. Too bad Drake had a keyring that would make a school janitor jealous.

"That's for the Ratcatcher," Drake mumbled. "Car, Thunderquack... What's this one? I've never seen this key in my life. It's too small to be a house key."

"Maybe you can hurry up a little?" Launchpad groaned. 

"I'm going as fast as I can," he replied. "Filing cabinet, filing cabinet, okay, there we go."

Launchpad breathed relief as Drake put the key in the lock. Drake tried to turn the key to the right but it wouldn't budge. He tried turning left. It still wouldn't move. That's when he noticed that it was only about halfway into the lock. He pushed but the key wouldn't go any further. He rattled the door knob.

"Would you go in," he growled. 

He yanked the key out and tried again. It still didn't want to go in all the way. 

"No, wait," he said. 

Launchpad moaned.

"Yeah, this is the key to my old house," he said. "Why do I still have this? My parents sold the place when I graduated."

"DW…" Launchpad groaned. His legs buckled. 

"Hold your horses," Drake said. "I'm having to do this with one hand. Have a little consideration."

"Right, sorry," Launchpad replied. 

"Okay, why is there a plastic key from a baby's teething ring here?" Drake wondered. 

"Yeah, that is weird," he strained. 

"I think it's this one," he said as he inserted a key no different from a dozen others before. 

_ Click. _ Drake turned the knob and the front door opened at last.

"Finally," Drake said, stepping inside and holding the door open for Launchpad. 

The tower of boxes slid off the mattress and landed on the floor without so much as rattling. Launchpad collapsed at last, under the weight of the old mattress. 

"LP?" Drake asked. 

"Just go on without me…" he groaned. "I'm finished. Bury me among the clouds."

"That's not how clouds work," Drake said as he shoved the mattress off Launchpad's back. 

Drake flopped down next to him. They looked at each other. 

"Thank you," Drake said. 

"It's just a couple boxes, DW," Launchpad replied. 

"It's a lot more than that," he said. "I was used to being alone. I actually thought I liked it that way. And I was used to being unwanted. And… ignored. And I told myself that it was just part of the job. I was just paying my dues and that one day I'd hit the big time like some struggling actor or something."

Drake took Launchpad's hand.

"But isolating myself isn't a job requirement, I just did it to myself and I'm not even sure why," he admitted. 

"DW…" Launchpad said and looked away too late to hide the pinkness of his face.

"This is the happiest I've ever been," Drake said, putting his other hand on Launchpad's cheek, nudging him to meet his eyes. 

"W-well sure, you've got Gos and you stopped Taurus Bulba and there's the job at SHUSH-"

"And you," Drake interrupted. 

Launchpad waited in case he said anything more but Drake just smiled. Then he leaned towards him. Launchpad shut his eyes entirely out of instinct. Their beaks were less than an inch apart. 

And then the phone rang. 

"Are you kidding me?" Launchpad asked. 

Drake sat up and stared at the phone set on top of a box labeled "kitchen". It continued to ring.

"Give me a sec-" Launchpad said, sitting up too. 

Drake put his hand on Launchpad's chest.

"The phone isn't hooked up," he said, glaring at the ringing phone. 

"Think it's the telephone company testing the jack?" Launchpad asked. 

"No," he said. "Because the phone  _ isn't hooked up.  _ It's not plugged into the wall."

He was right. The only cord plugged into the phone was the one that connected it to the handset. Drake stood up. He approached the phone as if it were a ticking bomb. It had been ringing for over a minute. A normal person would have given up after about five rings. 

"You should get behind something," Drake said. 

Launchpad crawled under Drake's mattress.  _ Good thing Gosalyn's already next door. _ Drake picked up the handset. There was no explosion. Just the faint, tinny voice. 

_ "Darkwing Duck, can you hear me, please answer." _

"Director Hooter?" Drake asked. 

"Ah thank goodness I reached you," Hooter sighed. 

"Okay um… couple of questions," he said. "One, how did you get this number? Two, what number are you actually calling because I haven't set up the line with the phone company yet. And three, how is my  _ unplugged  _ phone getting a call?"

"It's a wireless transmission," Hooter explained quickly. "You can thank Heny Lamar for her remarkable work on frequency hopping spread spectrum."

"Okie dokie," he said as if he understood what any of that meant. 

"There's no time to waste, I have a critical mission for you, you must report to SHUSH headquarters immediately," Hooter continued. 

"But I can't do any missions for you, I'm still injured," Drake said. 

"I know and believe me if it wasn't an emergency, I wouldn't have called. It's of the utmost importance. The fate of the free world depends on it," Hooter said. 

Drake placed his hand over the mouthpiece. He looked over his shoulder at Launchpad who watched him with a mix of confusion and concern. If he strained, Drake could hear the faint sounds of Tank Muddlefoot begging Gosalyn for mercy. 

"I'm on my way," he said and hung up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darkwing goes to SHUSH hq for a mission briefing and doctor's visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can have a little update, as a treat.

Launchpad struggled to his feet. 

"What's going on, DW? Where we going?" He asked. 

_ "We  _ aren't going anywhere. I need you to watch Gosalyn," Darkwing answered. 

"But she's next door-"

"I don't know anything about this mission," he interrupted. "I could be gone for weeks, for all I know."

"But what about the casts? How are you going to get there? How are you even going to fight?"

"SHUSH hq is a straight shot from the bridge. I need to get my costume and gas gun anyway. You can drop me off and I'll take the Ratcatcher the rest of the way," Darkwing said, heading for the door. 

Launchpad opened his mouth to argue but shut it again. Darkwing had an odd glint in his eye that made Launchpad hesitate. It wasn't just that Darkwing was excited or bored or worried he'd lost his touch. He was  _ determined.  _ He had the same look when they'd broken into Taurus Bulba's hideout. Darkwing noticed Launchpad staring. 

"C'mon sidekick," he said with a grin.  _ "Let's get dangerous." _

They didn't speak the whole drive to the Autobahn Bay bridge. Darkwing hopped out of the car as soon as Launchpad pulled over out of sight of the road. He walked to the driver's side window which was already rolled down. 

"Okay," Darkwing said almost solemnly. "My important papers are in the second drawer in my nightstand. My checkbook, mortgage papers, life insurance policy, Gosalyn's adoption papers… and I didn't have a chance to get it notarized yet but I did put in writing that you'd be Gosalyn's guardian if anything happens to me."

"DW… you're talking like you think you're going to die," Launchpad said. 

"Nah, that's just in case I have to go undercover for six months or something," he assured him. "I opened a joint checking account and all my paychecks are directly deposited there if you need to get groceries and stuff. Umh… oh, if I'm not back by dinner time tonight, there's a lasagna in the freezer. You just stick it in the oven. Don't let Gosalyn stay up past 9:30. And no ice cream before dinner or just before bedtime. If she asks, she can spend the night next door cuz it's summer. Once school starts, there's no sleepovers on school nights."

Launchpad could only nod. His bottom lip wobbled but otherwise he was keeping it together. 

"I'll let you know what's going on as soon as I can," Darkwing said. 

"Okay," Launchpad squeaked.

In a flash, Darkwing gave Launchpad a little peck on the lips. 

"See ya later, LP," he said and hurried away. 

"Bye, DW," Launchpad said to the empty night.

By keeping focused, Darkwing was able to drive the Ratcatcher to SHUSH without crashing. There had been a couple of jerky stops at red lights but both hero and motorcycle arrived unscathed. 

Director J. Gander Hooter's office was suddenly full of blue smoke. He coughed and waved some paper to clear it when he heard what he'd been waiting for. 

"I am the terror that flaps in the night. I am the pizza delivery that arrives in thirty minutes or less. I am Darkwing Duck!"

Darkwing Duck stood on J. Gander’s desk, holding up the corners of his cape.

“Quite the unconventional entrance,” Hooter said as the coughing eased. 

Darkwing sat on the desk, crossing his legs.

“So what’s this mission that holds the fate of the free world in the balance?” Darkwing asked.

“Some top secret technology has been stolen,” Hooter said.

“What was stolen?”

“That’s classified.”

“What’s it do?”

“Classified.”

“Where was it stolen from?”

“Classified.”

Darkwing groaned.

“I can’t solve the crime if you can’t tell me any details,” Darkwing complained. “If the location is classified, how can I look for clues and find out who did it?”

“Oh, we know who did it,” Hooter answered. “The theft was the work of FOWL, the Fiendish Organization for World Larceny. What we need you to do is retrieve the technology.”

“Cool,” he said. 

Hooter pressed a button on his desk phone. 

“Please send in Agent Gryzlikoff,” he said. 

The dour bear that had brought Darkwing’s alter ego documents months ago entered. He took one look at Darkwing and huffed, offended by the superhero’s existence.

“Agent Gryzlikoff," Hooter said. “Please brief Darkwing on his mission.” 

“As you say, Director Hooter,” replied the bear. “FOWL eggmen ambushed a SHUSH transport en route from Duckburg to St. Canard, severely injuring the agents on escort duty. The ambush was not totally unexpected so a tracking device was already implanted on the stolen tech. We are still getting pings at regular intervals from the tracker. The tracker indicates that the stolen tech is in downtown St. Canard."

A projection screen lowered from the ceiling projecting a street map of downtown. A single red dot blinked at the center of the map.

"Looks like you've got it all figured out-"

"The tracker can pinpoint the tech's location within a half mile radius," Gryzlikoff continued. 

"Downtown is pretty densely packed," Darkwing said. 

"Precisely," Hooter said. "So far, it's been like looking for a needle in a haystack. Add the fact that downtown is densely populated with civilians. Even if FOWL agents don't take hostages, the existence of this technology must be kept top secret."

"So you need someone to find where the foul fiends are hiding, sneak in and abscond with the top secret tech without drawing attention," Darkwing said. 

"You've hit the nail on the head, Darkwing," Hooter replied. 

"Director Hooter, I object most strongly to sending this Darkwing Duck on such a sensitive mission. Besides being grossly unqualified for stealth missions, he is too injured for active duty. I would not send a fully trained agent to the field in his condition," Gryzlikoff said. 

Darkwing took a breath, ready to give his opinion on the phrase "grossly unqualified" but Hooter interrupted. 

"Thank you for your input, Agent Gryzlikoff but it's my professional opinion that Darkwing is our best chance to retrieve the technology. As for his injuries, I'm sending him to Dr. Bellum's lab for an examination."

Both Director Hooter and Agent Gryzlikoff escorted Darkwing to Dr. Bellum's lab. The "good" doctor greeted them with a cheery smile and forced earmuffs onto each of them. 

"You're going to want these," she said as she pressed a button on a remote.

"What?" Darkwing asked, lifting up one of the earpieces. 

Instead of an answer, he heard a high pitched whine that felt like flossing with a razor. He let go of the earpiece and felt sweet relief immediately. Now the whining was a gentle drill between his joints. The whining lasted a lifetime or twelve seconds, then Dr. Bellum yanked the earmuffs off everyone. 

"Success! No more facial hemorrhaging!" She chirped and scribbled some notes in a clipboard. 

"Well done, doctor," Hooter groaned, rubbing his temples. "If I could have a moment of your time…"

"Sure, what's up?" She asked. 

"How goes progress on the medical ray?" He asked. 

"Still testing on mice," she said. "I can get it to work, mostly."

"Well, I have a possible human subject for you," he said. 

"Wait, what?" Darkwing asked. 

"Oh neat!" She exclaimed, dragging Darkwing to the nearest x-ray machine. 

She cast a critical eye over the x-rays of Darkwing's left arm and both his legs. 

"Seems just about healed," she sighed. "He just needs another week and he'll be fine anyway."

"Unfortunately, we don't have that kind of time, doctor," Hooter said. "Darkwing must set out on a mission immediately."

"Oh, is he going to get the Mcguffinator?" She asked. 

"Mcguffinator?" Darkwing repeated. "No wonder the name was classified."

Hooter just pursed his beak, still looking at Dr. Bellum. Agent Gryzlikoff facepalmed. 

"I guess we can skip to human trials, we're getting pretty consistent results on the mice…" she said. "Ok, follow me."

She led Darkwing to a gurney placed below a huge red lamp. As soon as he laid down, she buckled straps across his forehead, chest, stomach, wrists and ankles. 

"Um… are the straps really necessary?" He asked. 

"Oh they're just in case you have a seizure," she said. 

"Is that likely?" He asked.

"Depends," she answered. 

_ Vague and unhelpful, great. _ She stepped into a radiation shielding booth. Hooter and Gryzlikoff joined her. Darkwing took several deep breaths.  _ No big deal. It's just like getting an x-ray. _ It's fine. There was a click of a radio turning on. 

"Okay, I'll count down from five and then I'll switch the ray on for six seconds," Dr. Bellum said, her voice tinny through unseen speakers. 

"Okay," Darkwing squeaked. He cleared his throat. "Is six seconds really all it takes?"

"Yup, it'll accelerate the rate of your body's cellular reproduction while the ray is on at a rate of about one day per second," she said.

"A-and it really works?" He asked. 

"Of course it works," she replied. 

"It's just that you didn't seem satisfied with how the mice did…" he nudged. 

"Yeah but that was- uh, it's fine," she insisted.

"Doc, were the mice ok or not?" He asked.

"The ray definitely worked on mice," she said. 

"I'm sensing a 'but' somewhere, doctor," he said. "What happened when you used the ray on mice?"

"The cells turned cancerous and kept growing until the mice exploded," she muttered.

"What?!!" He screamed.

"I'm pretty sure that it's because I kept the ray on for too long," she tried to reassure him. "Plus you're  _ way  _ bigger than a mouse."

Darkwing wiggled, desperate to free himself. 

"You know what, I can just do the mission without the ray," he grunted. 

"Ah, c'mon," Dr. Bellum whined. "It'll only take a second. Well, six seconds-"

"Nope! Nope, nope, nope!" He replied, stretching his fingers, hoping to reach his buzzsaw cufflinks. 

"Darkwing, I will remind you that you are contractually obligated to test SHUSH technology," Hooter said. 

Shoot. He was right. It was the only reason he got benefits and a monthly stipend instead of just getting paid by the job. He took a deep breath to slow his frantic heartbeat. He looked up at the intimidating lamp that would shoot him with a ray that could blow him up. He felt no fear now. He remembered why he was doing this. Why he did anything worthwhile. 

"I'm ready," he said. 

"Okie dokie," Dr. Bellum replied. 

"Five."

_ Rest your head.  _

"Four."

_ Little girl blue.  _

"Three."

_ Come paint your dreams on your pillow.  _

"Two."

_ I'll be near. To chase away fear.  _

"One."

_ So sleep now and dream til tomorrow.  _

"Zero!"

Of course it hurt. It hurt so much it was impossible to think. Darkwing gritted his teeth, trying not to scream but he didn't hold out long. He screamed like he was falling to his death. The ramrod explosion hadn't hurt as much as this. Even if the ray somehow condensed all the pain he would have felt over the course of a week into six seconds, it still shouldn't hurt this much. 

There was a click and the ray suddenly stopped. Darkwing was covered in sweat and his eyes watered. He gasped for breath. He felt Dr. Bellum unbuckling the straps and heard her speaking but he was in too much of a daze to pay attention. 

"- take a new x-ray, check your blood pressure and you'll be all set," she said. "How do you feel?"

He gave her a Look instead of replying. She pulled him into a seated position and inspected his wrists.

"Hmm, a little bit of fresh bruising and inflammation," she muttered. 

She glanced at his ankles then nodded with satisfaction. She wrote more notes. 

"Feel bloated? Cancerous? Dizziness?" She asked. 

"N-no, just a headache," he answered. 

The new x-ray showed what they'd all expected. The fractures in his arm and legs were gone. 

"Blood pressure is on the high end of normal range so technically you're healthy but I suggest cutting back on caffeine," she said. "If you do suddenly start swelling like a balloon or blow up within the next week, please call and let me know."

"Sure…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felt shorter than previous chapters but I'm not sure. Thanks for waiting.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darkwing Duck's first SHUSH mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait and how short this chapter is but real life has been draining all my brainpower and energy. I just hope that things finally slow down enough to get back to what really matters.

The phone, now actually connected to a real, operating number, rang. Launchpad picked up on the third ring.

"Mallard residence," he said. 

"Hey, LP, it's Darkwing," replied Darkwing Duck. 

Launchpad tensed a moment and checked his breath as if it was possible to smell sweet pickle and peanut butter sandwiches over the phone. 

"Hi DW," he said. "Is everything ok?"

"Everything's fine, I should be back home in a couple days, maybe even tomorrow," he said. 

"Oh, are you going outta town or something?" 

"LP, I can't talk about it, this is a top secret mission," he replied. 

"Oh yeah, right. I get it," he said. "But what about your-"

"The SHUSH doctor examined me and removed the casts, I'm fine, I promise," he said. "Listen, if there's a problem just call the tower phone and leave a message. I'll be checking the answering machine regularly, ok."

"Okay," Launchpad replied softly. "Did you want to talk to Gosalyn? She's still next door, I can-"

"Nah, just let her have fun," he said. "I'll see you real soon."

"Okay, take care of yourself, DW," he said. 

"As if any criminal lowlife could take down Darkwing Duck," he replied. 

"Yeah, yeah," Launchpad chuckled. "Love you."

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line. Launchpad retroactively covered his beak. 

"Love you too," Darkwing mumbled and hung up. 

When Darkwing returned to Dr. Bellum's lab from using the phone in Director Hooter's office, Gryzlikoff had already set the Ratcatcher's radar to the tracker frequency. Director Hooter showed Darkwing a grainy photo of the Mcguffinator. He still refused to tell him what it did and at this point, Darkwing was starting to suspect that he didn't actually know. 

Its appearance didn't provide any kind of clue. It was built to resemble a digital pet keychain. It had three little buttons below a tiny screen. He stuffed the photo into his jacket pocket. 

"I don't recommend keeping that," Dr. Bellum said. 

"I won't lose it," he insisted. 

"No, it's just that it's printed on some experimental self destructing paper and-" she started. 

There was an explosion in his jacket. His hat jumped off his head. Black smoke billowed out of his sleeve cuffs and turtleneck collar. His face and hands were covered in soot. Darkwing coughed. The hat floated back down into place. 

"I should get going…" Darkwing croaked. 

"Godspeed, Darkwing," Hooter said. "The world is counting on you."

_Darkwing stalks the streets of his beloved St. Canard, reunited at last. Emboldened by the caped crusader's absence, the deviant denizens that are the city's criminal underworld have stuck at the very heart of the civilized world._

_Darkwing perches on the top of his tower hideout and casts an eagle eye over the heart of the city. Somewhere down there, concealed by the glass and concrete of downtown, the Fiendish Organization for World Larceny has gone to roost._

_But the question is where? The mighty masked mallard does not have the luxury of time. He must call upon his superb intellect and his carefully honed crime fighting instincts to crack this case. But FOWL made one crucial mistake. The Ratcatcher's radar had led right back to Darkwing's home turf. Everything between Broadway and Harbor Drive, from 1st street to 26th was his territory._

"Now, where can a terrorist group hunker down in this town?" Darkwing asked, looking into his night vision binoculars. 

He found them! The way he found FOWL's hideout was simple. So simple in fact that it would be insulting to explain it. That's why we'll skip the how. Not because the narrator couldn't think of anything. They were hiding in one of the many unoccupied office buildings that littered the city. 

_Darkwing Duck moves like a shadow. Like a ghost. Like a whisper, scaling the all but abandoned building until he finds a balcony where office employees might have once taken their smoke break. He nimbly picks the door lock and is in. Taking every step with care, he listens for any hint of his quarry. Even if they didn't believe themselves to be safe, even if they took every precaution, he would find them._

He heard a faint conversation coming from the corner office. He peeked through the office blinds and saw a cocky looking rooster dressed in a white suit, leaning back in his chair with his feet on the desk. 

"Don't worry, babe, I got the Mcguffinator right here," the rooster said, taking a tamagotchi looking device out of his jacket pocket. 

"Excellent work, Agent Steelbeak," replied a gravelly voice on speaker phone. 

_Agent Steelbeak!_ According to SHUSH files, he was one of FOWL's best agents. This was _huge!_ It would take ingenuity and quick thinking to get the drop on him. _Drop…_ The ceiling was made of those foam tiles you see in every office building. It _could_ work. 

Steelbeak groaned. 

"So if you don't know what it does, what was the point in stealing it?" He asked, placing the Mcguffinator by the phone. 

"The level of security and encryption surrounding this device made taking possession of the Mcguffinator vital to our overall goals," replied one of High Command's silhouettes. "We will be sending a team of scientists to your location for analysis. We cannot risk SHUSH taking it back enroute to our labs."

"Right, right," he said. 

"Do not let the Mcguffinator out of your sight," High Command said. 

"Of course not, what do you take me for?" He asked as High Command was already hanging up. 

Steelbeak spun his chair and got to his feet. He opened the blinds, taking in the city lights.

"Well, there are worse hideouts," he said to himself. "A corner office with a view is just what an agent of my calibre deserves."

His view was suddenly obstructed by blue smoke that filled the room. 

"I am the terror that flaps in the night!

I am the microwaved fish that stinks up the break room!

I am Darkwing Duck!"

Darkwing Duck stood on the desk when the smoke cleared. 

"Uh… wut?" Steelbeak asked. 

Keeping his priorities straight for now, Darkwing snatched the Mcguffinator off the desk and ran for the door. He heard Steelbeak scream for the Eggmen as he ran. He glanced over his shoulder just long enough to see the squad of Eggmen running after him. 

There was a shot and a slight breeze over his hat. The wall in front of Darkwing was obliterated so rather than slamming into a dead end, he tripped through the hole and into a stairwell. He looked around frantically. He could run down the stairs, jump over the railing-

There was another shot that still missed but was a lot closer than the last one. He looked up. There were still several stories between here and the roof. He put the grappling hook attachment on his gas gun and fired up. He couldn't see but the hook caught on something. He shot up, disappearing into the dark. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you gotta write Darkwing's corny internal narration. It's ridiculous but that's showbiz, baby.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short update to tide you over.

Morning rush hour had already started when Darkwing was finally able to get the Eggmen off his trail. He staggered into his hideout, panting for breath. His knees buckled and he sank to the floor, utterly exhausted. 

He tried to shut his eyes but a blinking red light demanded his attention. He groaned and sat up. It was the answering machine. He pressed play after hanging up his hat and cape.

"Hi Drake," said Launchpad. Since when did he call him Drake? "Sorry to bug you on your first day back to work but I wanted to let you know that Ms. Beatriz is here for a surprise inspection-"

Darkwing pressed the stop button. He tore off the rest of his costume and fumbled into his civilian clothes. The Mcguffinator fell out of his jacket pocket. He froze. He needed to take it back to SHUSH but he couldn't bail on Ms. Beatriz… who knows how long she'd been waiting already. 

He stuffed the Mcguffinator into his shirt pocket. He couldn't leave it unguarded and as soon as she was gone, he'd go straight to SHUSH hq.

Ms. Beatriz sat on the couch, holding a cup of undrunk "Launchpad's secret blend" coffee. Launchpad sat next to her, trying desperately not to fidget. 

"I thought he wasn't going back to work until next week," she said. "I had hoped to avoid this exact situation by getting it out of the way now."

"Y-yeah, he wasn't going to go back but there was an emergency at work," Launchpad replied. 

"Oh that's a shame," she said. "What sort of emergency would a billing department even have?"

"Maybe everyone decided to pay their bills with pennies?" He suggested, trying to laugh it off. 

She chuckled politely. 

"I should go get Gosalyn," Launchpad announced. "She's just next door playing with the neighbor kids."

"Good to hear she's making friends already," she said. 

Launchpad practically fled out the door. A moment later, Gosalyn rollerbladed into the house and threw herself on the couch. Launchpad trailed close behind her.

"Why good morning, Ms. Beatriz," she said in a sickening sweet tone that all the adults at the orphanage knew too well. "Long time no see. What brings you to our humble home?"

"Surprise inspection," she said. "How are you liking the place?"

"It's awesome," Gosalyn exclaimed. "I got my own room and Honker Muddlefoot next door is a nerd so I know I can count on him when school starts to-"

"Oh?" Ms. Beatriz said, raising an eyebrow. 

"T-to tutor me on the tricky subjects," she said and grinned. 

Ms. Beatriz lowered the eyebrow. 

"Of course," she said carefully. 

The front door flew open suddenly. Drake Mallard hung off the doorknob, panting for breath. Had he straight up  _ ran  _ here from work?

"Morning, Ms. Beatriz," he wheezed. "Sorry. To. Keep you… waiting!"

"Um… that's fine," she said, getting up. "Launchpad told me that you were called into work early for an emergency…"

"Yeah, it's fine though, don't worry," he said, getting to his feet. 

"So everything's okay?" Launchpad asked. 

"Well, we got the hard part outta the way," he said. "So Ms. Beatriz, why don't I give you a tour of the place."

He guided her towards the stairs. 

"Get the Ratcatcher outta the garage!" He hissed, tossing Launchpad the keys.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LOST HIM?!" Steelbeak demanded. 

The Eggmen winced and took half a step back. The team of FOWL scientists stood behind him.

"He had a purple cape and drove a motorcycle that looked like it escaped the Macy's Thanksgiving day parade! How do you lose track of someone like that!" He yelled. 

Steelbeak slammed his fist on the desk, splitting the wood. The scientists shared a concerned look. 

"You need to find him before he gets to SHUSH," Steelbeak growled. 

"Uh…" one of the scientists said and caught himself immediately. 

He covered his mouth but it was too late. Steelbeak turned his full attention to him. 

"Do you have some helpful insight you would like to share with the group?" Steelbeak asked with too much menace. 

"Well… I don't know about tracking  _ him _ but I think there must be some tracker on the Mcguffinator, otherwise… how would he have found us?" The scientist said.

"Hmm… That is a definite possibility. Okay, nerds. You're going to figure out what frequency the Mcguffinator's tracking device is on and then you," he turned to the Eggmen, "are going to  _ do your jobs!  _ Bring back the Mcguffinator  _ and  _ Darkwing Duck's corpse!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darkwing needs work-life balance.

The tour of the house was finished. And yes, Launchpad got the Ratcatcher out of the garage before Ms. Beatriz saw it. It was currently parked in an alley two blocks away. 

"Everything looks good," she said, stepping out the front door with Drake, Launchpad and Gosalyn. 

"Well, howdy! Drakester!" Herb Muddlefoot called from his side of the fence. 

Drake tensed as the large goose waddled over.

"Please don't call me 'Drakester'," he grumbled, knowing it made no difference. "Ms. Beatriz, this is my next door neighbor, Herb Muddlefoot. Herb, this is Ms. Beatriz, she's the social worker that was in charge of Gosalyn's adoption."

"It's swell to meetcha, Ms. Beatriz," he exclaimed, vigorously shaking her hand. "Drakester has been a delightful neighbor, though we still haven't gotten together for a barbeque yet," he said. "And little Gosalyn has really helped our Honker come out of his shell, they're already best buddies."

"That's good to hear," Ms. Beatriz said, freeing her hand from Herb's overenthusiastic grip. 

"Binkie!" Herb called to the kitchen window, "come meet Ms. Beatriz!"

"Oh please no," Drake groaned. 

Binkie Muddlefoot joined her husband and shook Ms. Beatriz's hand with even more energy than her husband had. 

"You must be Drake's girlfriend," she said. "So nice to-"

"No!" Ms. Beatriz interrupted. "I'm the social worker assigned to assist Mr. Mallard through the transition process after adopting Gosalyn."

"Oh I see," Binkie said. "Well, it's good to meet you anyway."

Drake and Ms. Beatriz shared a glance. Drake cleared his throat. 

"Ms. Beatriz just finished up one of her surprise inspections," Drake said. 

"Yeah, just one of… many, you know," she said. "Social workers are always stretched too thin. Gosalyn's case isn't the only one on my plate."

"Goodness me, really?" Binkie said. 

"Yes but… while you're here, can I get a contact number for you? In case I need to ask you any questions later?" She asked. 

"Oh of course," Binkie said. "Herb dear, do you still have any of your business cards left?"

"Sure do, sweetums," Herb said. "I'll go get one."

He went back into the house. 

"I honestly had no idea Gosalyn was adopted, seeing her and Drake, it's like they're really father and daughter," Binkie said. 

"Well… they _are_ father and daughter," Ms. Beatriz said in a careful and even tone.

"Yeah, Binkie, that's kinda the whole _point_ of adoption," Drake huffed.

"Yes but it's not quite the same," Binkie replied, not reading the room. "You missed out on so many of Gosalyn's milestones. Why, when Tank took his first steps, Herb cried so hard, he couldn't keep the camcorder steady. And I'll never forget Honker's first word for as long as I live. It was 'mama'."

Of course that was his first word!" Drake screamed. "That's every kid's first word! 'Ma' is the easiest syllable to pronounce on the planet!"

"Hey, DW..." Launchpad said softly and touched his shoulder. Drake flinched and stepped away from Launchpad. 

"Honey bunch," Herb called from inside the house. "Do you remember where I put my briefcase?"

"Oh Herb," she sighed. "I'll be right back."

Drake was shaking when Binkie went back into her house. Gosalyn and Launchpad looked at each other, unsure of what to do. 

"Drake," Ms. Beatriz said. 

"She's just an old busybody stuck in the 1950s," he snapped. "She's just being clueless. I know, okay?!"

A tiny hand touched his. Drake looked down. Gosalyn was holding his hand and looking ahead, obviously trying to look tough. 

"Gos, I-" he began. 

"I bet Honker and Tank don't remember any of that stuff. I sure don't," she said. She looked down at her sneakers. "But _I'll_ always remember that you always forget the milk."

That moment that she knew he was alive, the moment he became her dad. It wasn't a moment for Drake alone to look back on but one that he and Gosalyn shared and could remember together. 

"I'm sorry," he said, sinking to his knees and wrapping his arms around her. "I shouldn't have gotten mad. Look, people are going to stay stupid stuff like that all the time but you're my daughter just as much as Tank and Honker are Herb and Binkie's sons. Besides, I _picked_ you and they're stuck with Tank so who got the short end of the stick really?"

Gosalyn giggled. She squeezed him tighter. 

Meanwhile, Steelbeak, the team of scientists and a squad of Eggmen had left downtown in a van and were deep in the St. Canard suburbs.

"Okay, the Mcguffinator is somewhere within a half a mile," one scientist said, looking intensely at a radar screen. 

"Huh. You'd think Dorkwing would be more the "lurk at the docks" type," Steelbeak said. "You need to narrow it down. I'm not going to drive up and down every cul de sac and rummage every yard sale looking for this thing."

"I-I-I'm sorry," the scientist stammered. "I really can't-"

Steelbeak picked the scientist up by his lab coat. The Eggman driver continued driving up the back streets. 

"Are you telling me that you're not smarter than Darkwing Duck?" He asked. "Are you telling me that he could somehow track down the Mcguffinator to my office but you can't figure out where he's hiding it?"

The scientist shook. His mouth opened and shut but no sound came out. The van stopped suddenly. 

"Boss," the driver said. 

"WHAT??!" Steelbeak demanded. 

The Eggman didn't say anything. He just pointed out the window to an alley on his left. That absurd motorcycle was parked in the alley like it belonged there. Steelbeak dropped the scientist and got out of the van. The Eggmen trailed after him.

"Normally, I'd say he wouldn't be stupid enough to leave the Mcguffinator here unguarded but… you never know, right?" He said. 

The scientist trudged out of the van holding a modified Geiger counter. It beeped louder and faster as he got closer to the motorcycle. 

"Oh, did you find it?" Steelbeak said. 

"Uh… no," the scientist admitted. "It was definitely here but the concentration has dissipated too much."

"Concentration?" Steelbeak asked. 

"The Mcguffinator was made of a unique resin that leaves trace amounts on anything it touches," the scientist said. 

He pointed the Geiger counter at Steelbeak, the beeps got louder as it got closer to his hands. 

"Now we're getting somewhere," he said. 

He looked at the motorcycle. The wooden fence was bare except for some traces of scrapped magenta paint.

"Someone needs to work on their parallel parking," Steelbeak said, shaking his head.

Herb was _still_ looking for his briefcase. Ms. Beatriz checked her watch. 

"I should go or I really will be late to my next appointment," she said. 

"Now really, Herb, you'd lose your own head if it wasn't attached," Binkie giggled from inside the house. 

She came out of the house with a notepad and pen. 

"Sorry about keeping you waiting so long," she said. 

Drake stomped away from his and the Muddlefoots' house. He'd had his maximum dose of Binkie Muddlefoot for the day. 

"Oh dear, this pen's out of ink, just wait a second," Drake heard Binkie say behind him. 

He gritted his teeth and walked faster. At this point, he was clenching his jaw so hard it hurt. He forced himself to move his fingers, not wanting his joints to lock up. 

"Deep breaths," he told himself. 

If his heart was pounding before, it stopped and dropped into his stomach now. Further down the street there was a white van with the word "exterminator" painted on the side and a giant fiberglass termite bolted on the roof. Nothing unusual about that, really. What _was_ unusual was that giant termite was wearing an egg shaped helmet that matched those of the far too many and too beefy to be legit exterminators going door to door. 

"FOWL Eggmen," he hissed. 

But how did they…? One of the "exterminators" was wearing a lab coat over the exterminator uniform and holding a beeping device. _The Mcguffinator has a tracking device!_ He felt the blood draining from his body. He tried to look back to his house while keeping an eye on the Eggmen.

Binkie and Herb were obviously talking Ms. Beatriz's ear off. She was smiling in that tense and polite way everyone did after a minute with the Muddlefoots. At least they were keeping her distracted. 

Steelbeak, the Eggmen and scientist walked back to the van.

"I think I've extended the range a bit more," the scientist said. 

"Good," Steelbeak said, "because I'm already sick of this-

"I am the terror that flaps in the night!

I am the spider that keeps freaking you out when you take a shower!

I am Darkwing Duck!"

Darkwing Duck stood on the van roof, balancing on the termite's thorax. 

"Never thought I'd be glad to see you, Darkwing doofus," Steelbeak said. 

Steelbeak snapped his fingers. The Eggmen surrounded the van and pointed very serious looking machine guns at Darkwing. 

"I'm still a little surprised to see you here," Steelbeak said. "Don't tell me that SHUSH's hot shot new agent is actually a suburbanite going through a middle-life crisis. Now hand over the Mcguffinator before I really get mad."

"As if I'd be so stupid as to hold on to it," Darkwing said. "I already handed it over to SHUSH. It's long gone."

"Is that right?" Steelbeak asked. 

He took a remote out of his jacket pocket and pressed its big red button. The fiberglass termite shuddered and the thorax split open. A missile larger than the van itself stuck out of the roof. 

"I think you're bluffing, Darkwing," Steelbeak said.

The missile platform rotated slowly. 

"Now then… which of these quaint cookie cutter domiciles is home to Mrs. Darkwing and little Darkwing Jr.?" He asked. 

"I guarantee you that none of them are," Darkwing said. 

Steelbeak gave Darkwing a cold metal grin. Could he somehow see his hands shaking or hear his heart pounding?

"Well, that's the nice thing about being a villain," Steelbeak said. "I can wipe out an entire street of middle America and not feel a hint of guilt."

The missile platform rose. The missile tilted down, aimed at a whole line of identical houses. An unnecessary crosshair popped up in front of Darkwing, so he could see the exact missile target was a couple of kids kicking a soccer ball back and forth. He saw that familiar flash of red hair. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darkwing Duck vs. Steelbeak

Gosalyn was _literally_ in the missile's sights. 

"Waitwaitwait!" Darkwing begged. "I didn't take it to SHUSH! I still have it! I swear!"

"So where is it?" Steelbeak asked, his index finger hovering over the big red button.

"I ate it," Darkwing said. 

"You what?"

"Well, I mean, I swallowed it," Darkwing admitted. 

The scientist pointed the Geiger counter at Darkwing. It started beeping like crazy. Steelbeak groaned. 

"I hate this assignment," he grumbled. "Eggmen, restrain him, we'll cut him open at the hideout."

Darkwing didn't resist when the Eggmen dragged him down, tied him up and stuffed him into the back of the van. How could he while Steelbeak was holding that remote?

The van rocked from side to side as they drove away from the burbs. Darkwing shut his eyes. Don't think about that missile, or Steelbeak, or being surrounded by Eggmen, he told himself. Focus only on the breath, just like the monks had taught him. 

"You've been very quiet. What's the matter, Dorkwing?" Steelbeak asked from the front passenger seat. "Feeling car sick? Maybe it was something you ate."

Steelbeak laughed that nasal, infuriating laugh. 

"One of yous get him a sick bag, don't want him ruining the upholstery," he said. 

The drive had been going a long time. Much too long to be going back downtown. That made sense though. By now the building would be crawling with SHUSH agents. Okay. So no hope of any backup. That was fine. The important thing was that Gosalyn was safe at home and far, far, _far_ away from Steelbeak. 

The van stopped. Two Eggmen grabbed him by the arms when the driver got out and opened the doors. The Eggmen pushed him out of the van, sending him face first into the dirt. Dirt?

"Take it easy fellas," Steelbeak said. "We got precious cargo. We don't want the Mcguffinator getting damaged."

They were in the mountains. The van was parked in front of a cave. There was a guardrail along the dirt road and a sheer drop. From this far up, the city looked a mile down. The Eggmen dragged Darkwing to his feet. Even though he appeared outwardly calm. There was no hiding how tightly he clenched his fists.

"So Doc," Steelbeak said. "I take it that your doctorate is not in medicine?"

"N-no, I'm sorry," the scientist replied. 

"That's alright. I think I can manage a simple Mcguffinator extraction on my own," he said. 

"Well, I need a second opinion," Darkwing said. 

He stomped on the foot of the Eggman holding his left arm and elbowed him hard in the gut. Next he headbutted the one holding his right arm. But instead striking anyone else, Darkwing threw something over the guardrail and into the void below. 

"The Mcguffinator," Steelbeak gasped. 

The Eggmen that still stood looked over the edge, squinting. 

"Don't just stand there, you idiots! Go down and get it!" He screamed. 

The Eggmen and the lone scientist ran down the road. Darkwing stepped over the fallen Eggmen slowly to avoid making a sound. 

"Oh no you don't!" Steelbeak said. 

Darkwing turned around just in time to meet Steelbeak's fist. He saw stars and then darkness.

Darkwing woke up to a bucket of ice cold water thrown in his face. He was tied into a chair in a dark cave. Steelbeak stood in front of him, holding an empty bucket. A bright light shone just behind Steelbeak, almost blinding Darkwing. 

"You have turned today into One Of Those Days," Steelbeak said. 

"How do you think I feel? It's my first day and you're already The Case That Won't Close," Darkwing said. 

"We could make an arrangement," Steelbeak said. "Ever consider moonlighting? I'm sure the nerd can whip something up to convince SHUSH that you did your job."

"Thanks but no thanks," Darkwing said. "I've got a lot on my plate already and oh, I'd never work for a slimy creep like you."

"No need to get personal," he replied. 

Darkwing squinted and tilted his head from side to side but all he could see without his eyes watering was Steelbeak's silhouette. The click of Steelbeak's dress shoes echoed off the cave walls. 

"Care to guess what happens next?" Steelbeak asked, stepping into the light. He'd removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. 

"I wouldn't bother trying to get any information outta me. They haven't even shown me the company break room," Darkwing said. 

"Oh I'm not interested in getting information," he said, putting on a pair of brass knuckles. "This is just because it has been a very rough day and I want to treat myself. I promise to keep you awake for this part."

Ms. Beatriz tapped her foot impatiently. 

"I really can't wait any longer," she said. "I know new parents get sensitive but I had no idea he sulked like this."

"He's not usually like this," Launchpad assured her. 

"Is he going to get in trouble?" Gosalyn asked, genuinely worried. 

"No. But I am going to recommend he join one of the support groups for new parents. I think it'll help him a lot if he knows he's not alone," she said. 

She ruffled Gosalyn's hair. 

"It was good to see you," she said. "And seriously, if there are any problems you can call me anytime. You still remember my home and office numbers?"

Gosalyn nodded. 

"There aren't any problems," she insisted. "I really like it here!"

Ms. Beatriz smiled. 

"As long as you're happy," she said. 

She got into her car and drove off. Gosalyn flopped back on the grass.

"That was worse than finals," she groaned. 

Launchpad sat next to her on the grass. 

"I think you and DW worry too much," he said. "Ms. B knows how much you care about each other. Everyone can see it."

"Oh yuck, we're not all sappy are we?" She asked. 

Launchpad chuckled. "A little sap is okay. Your dad loves you so much, it radiates off him, it's like he has this glow."

"I dare you to tell him that," She said, laughing. She sighed, solemn again. "Do you think he's really mad?"

"Nah, just give him a bit to cool off and he'll be his old self again. Your dad's pretty tough, it's going to take more than Binkie to hurt him," he said. 

Darkwing slumped forward in the chair. If he opened his eyes, everything appeared to spin. He kept his eyes closed, they were certainly _not_ swollen shut. Steelbeak took a step back and stretched.

"Phew, feeling a little winded," he said pleasantly. "To think I used to spar for hours back in my twenties. Happens to all of us, don't it?"

Darkwing groaned, slipping in and out of consciousness. 

"Don't black out on me now. You're supposed to last until the boys come back with the Mcguffinator," he taunted. 

"Hmm…?" Darkwing groaned. 

"Oh did you think just chucking it over the side would stop me? My Eggmen are scouring the woods looking for it right now. Even if it's busted, the nerds can patch it up. Face it, babe, you lost."

Darkwing mumbled something. Steelbeak leaned in.

"Say that again?" He asked. 

"Yellow…" Darkwing breathed. "Blue. Red blue… purple…"

"Oh c'mon, I didn't hit you that hard and you're already babbling?" He mocked. 

Steelbeak crouched in front of Darkwing. 

"Anybody home?" He asked, slapping him once.

Darkwing started mumbling again. Steelbeak leaned forward. 

"Got something to say, ducky?"

No. It's impolite to talk with your mouth full. Darkwing bit down on Steelbeak's comb and pulled. Steelbeak flailed and screamed. Darkwing kept pulling until Steelbeak's face was pressed against the ropes. He only kept him in place for a moment but Steelbeak's steel beak was sharp and sliced a fair bit of rope, enough to free one hand. 

Darkwing activated the buzzsaw cufflinks to finish the job. He broke the wooden chair over Steelbeak's head partly to slow him down but mostly out of spite. 

"Why you-!" Steelbeak screamed. 

Darkwing swung the lit lamp into Steelbeak's face, smashing the metallic beak into the lamp's wiring. Electricity shot through Steelbeak's body and left him a smoldering heap.

"You want to know the best thing about being a hero?" Darkwing asked, one foot on Steelbeak's head. "You don't need to know people to protect them. You can threaten me all you want but I will _never_ let you get away with threatening my… town."

Steelbeak groaned. Deciding not to push his luck, Darkwing walked out of the cave. The van was still parked on the side of the road. He climbed in the back and tore through the seats. Yes! The Mcguffinator was still there, wedged between the seats. Of course, he didn't really swallow it! He wasn't going to put that thing in his mouth, he didn't know where it'd been. 

The driver's side door was unlocked but there were no keys anywhere. He'd have to hot wire it. No problem. He touched two wires together but instead of starting the engine, the van roof split open and that oversized missile popped up, ready to fire. He tried a different pair of wires. 

The engine revved. Yes! He shifted into reverse. The missile fired, striking further up the mountain. Okay… so that _wasn't_ the clutch. Steelbeak staggered out of the cave. His pristine white suit was singed and frayed. 

"I'm going to get you for this, Darkwing!" He screamed. 

Darkwing looked up the mountain. 

"I think you've got bigger problems than me right now," he said.

Steelbeak heard an ominous rumble. He looked up. That stupid missile had caused a landslide! Darkwing backed up the van and sped down the road, leaving Steelbeak to be buried under mud and rock.

Gander Hooter and Agent Gryzlikoff exited the elevator to the SHUSH hq lobby. 

"I'm concerned about Darkwing Duck," Gryzlikoff said.

"Yes, he should have checked in hours ago," Hooter said. 

"I knew he wasn't ready for this mission," he said. "He must have been captured by FOWL agents."

"None of our intercepts have made any mention of taking Darkwing prisoner. All of FOWL's chatter is about searching for the Mcguffinator. Clearly, Darkwing succeeded," Hooter said.

"Then he must have gone rogue, why else have we not heard back from-"

A dirty, dented van drove up onto the sidewalk just outside the building entrance. The driver's side door fell off. A familiar figure clad in purple staggered out.

"Does anyone have change for the meter?" Darkwing slurred. 

He collapsed face first at Hooter's feet. The Mcguffinator hung off his wrist. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back home.

Darkwing woke up in a bed, his bed, back at the house. He briefly wondered if it had all been a dream but he was too sore all over. That encounter with Steelbeak was unfortunately real. The room was dark and not just because the curtains were drawn. The clock on his nightstand said 8:30. He'd slept through the whole day. He heard a faint knock at the door. 

"Come in," he said. 

Launchpad entered with a tray.

"Brought you some mac and cheese for dinner," he said.

Darkwing sat up and eyed the bowl of macaroni and cheese when Launchpad put the tray down.

"Did you make this?" He asked, more accusatory than he meant to. 

"Yea," Launchpad replied. 

Darkwing was about to say no thanks but his stomach growled loud enough for Launchpad to hear. He took a small, careful bite of the macaroni. So far, so good. Launchpad sat down on the edge of the bed. 

"So how was your day?" He asked. 

Darkwing chewed his food before answering. Also, mac and cheese isn't supposed to have hard bits right?

"It was awful, I completely blew it," he said. 

"Hooter seemed really happy with how you did," Launchpad said. "He said you went above and beyond the call of duty."

"I led them here," Darkwing said. "Did you know that while the social worker was here, FOWL's goons were coming up the street?!"

"No… but you took care of it, right?" 

"Just barely," he said. "I was this close to handing over the… thingy. They were going to kill Gosalyn for it. They almost wiped out the whole street."

Darkwing dropped his fork into the bowl. He gripped his head tight. 

"She had no idea what was going on and I  _ still  _ almost got her killed," he exclaimed. 

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Launchpad assured him. 

"No it's not!" He snapped. "I'm her father! I'm  _ supposed  _ to protect her, not put her in more danger!"

"But you did pro-"

"Didn't you hear me! I lured them here!" He yelled. "I almost betrayed SHUSH because having a child is like having a massive hole in your armor!"

"What are you saying?" Launchpad asked barely louder than a whisper. 

"I can't be Darkwing Duck _and_ Gosalyn's father," he confessed. 

Launchpad struggled to remain calm.

"Hey, c'mon, DW, you're still adjusting, you just need to figure out-"

"The only thing I need to figure out is where to find another job," he said. 

After he finished his dinner, Launchpad finally let Darkwing get out of bed.

"Is Gosalyn still at the Muddlefoots'?" He asked walking down the stairs. 

"No, she didn't want to miss you waking up," Launchpad answered, trailing behind him. "She was pretty worried when I brought you home. I told her that you'd probably be out for a few hours so we've been watching movies."

The TV was still on, playing Revenge of the Mutant Carrots From Planet X Part 8 but there was no Gosalyn. A bowl of popcorn rested on the coffee table. Darkwing pressed pause on the VCR remote. The house was too quiet now. Without any information traveling from his brain to his feet, Darkwing rushed back up the stairs. 

"Gosalyn!" He called. 

He stopped in front of her bedroom door. The door was open and the room was unoccupied. Her room was a lived in mess already but his keen powers of deduction still picked up details that were out of place. Her rollerblades, backpack, and the picture frame of her and her grandpa were gone. One end of a sheet rope was tied to one of the bedposts and the other end was dangling out the window. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a pretty short chapter but this seemed like a good stopping point.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding Gosalyn.

Darkwing Duck drove up and down St. Canard's empty streets. He thought taking the Ratcatcher would help him find Gosalyn faster but he had to keep stopping his search for every little mugging and gas station robbery. It was like the crooks could sense when he wasn't in the mood or something. 

It was just more proof of what he already knew. As soon as he found Gosalyn he was taking his costume and gadgets to the dump. No wait, just the costume. He could probably sell the gadgets. He could definitely get a good price for the Ratcatcher. Hopefully enough to keep them afloat while he looked for another job. 

He drove down a street that felt strangely familiar. Then he stopped at the red light and realized why. The St. Canard orphanage. He was on the same street where it all started. He stared at the chain link fence. Funny. He'd expected her to be a tiny damsel in distress but the first thing she did when he rescued her was punch him in the gut. He chuckled to himself. The girl was just one surprise after another. 

The light turned green. He drove for about two seconds when he noticed a familiar figure sitting on the orphanage steps. Gosalyn was sitting there, flicking one of the wheels of her rollerblades and waiting for the orphanage to open. 

"Gosalyn!" He exclaimed. 

She flinched and looked up. He didn't know what he'd expected to happen but it definitely wasn't that she'd chuck her rollerblades at him and bolt. Good thing he'd been wearing a helmet. He chased after her. She climbed over the chain link fence and he followed after her, snagging his cape on the way down. 

She ran for a solitary tree in the middle of the playground and climbed up. He stood at the base of the tree unsure how to reach her. The branches might have been strong enough to hold her weight but not his. Honestly the only strong looking branch was the one she was sitting on so he didn't dare use the grappling hook. 

"You come down this instant, young lady!" He ordered. 

"No!" She snapped back. 

"What is with you?" He demanded. "If you're upset about what Binkie said-"

"I can't be Darkwing Duck and Gosalyn's father!" She yelled. "That's what you told Launchpad, isn't it?"

Darkwing froze. She overheard that?

"It's not what you think," he said.

Seriously, when has that phrase ever worked?

"I swear, I'm not sending you back," he said. "I'm going to quit being Darkwing Duck and just be your dad. I'm dumping the costume-"

"Darkwing Duck isn't the costume, Drake Mallard is!" She cried. 

And she really was crying. He could hear her sniffle.

"You can't give up who you are just for me," she said. "Even if you try, you'll just be miserable and it'd be my fault!"

So that's why she ran away. To not force him to choose. 

"And, and pretty soon you'll hate me," she whimpered. 

"Gos, I could never hate-"

"You will! You've risked your life for me but now you're giving up your soul!"

Darkwing looked at his feet, trying to think. She was right about him being Darkwing first and Drake second. He hadn't thought of himself as Drake for years. There was nothing about Drake that he wanted. Not until…

"If not being Darkwing is giving up my soul, not being your father is giving up my heart," he said. 

His heart was pounding and his hands shook. 

"If I leave you here, if I give you up… I'd hate myself just as much as you think I'd hate you, more in fact. You'll learn when you grow up, there's no loathing like self loathing," he said. 

He sat down at the base of the tree, leaning back against the trunk.

"Gosalyn, I," he took a deep breath. "I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone. You know why I'm scared of Ms. Beatriz, don't you? Because she's the only person who can take you from me. The thought of not being your dad is so horrible that I can't even breathe when I think about it. I love being Darkwing Duck, I do. But I  _ need  _ to be your father like I need air to breathe."

He looked up. She was still sitting on the branch overhead. Her arms were crossed and she looked away from him. 

"What can I say to make you come down?" He asked. 

"Say you won't quit being Darkwing," she replied. 

Well, he could lie. Adults lie to children all the time. But really that would only be putting off this conversation for another time. 

"Why is it so important that I keep being Darkwing Duck?" He asked. 

"Why's it so important that you stop?" She replied. 

"Because I don't want to lure danger to our home, to you," he said. 

She didn't seem convinced. She hugged her knees. 

"Do you really think you can't do both?" She asked. 

"I know I can't do both," he answered. 

"So why are you Darkwing Duck right now?" She asked. "If you want to be my dad, why are you Darkwing Duck now? You couldn't last a day without being Darkwing! Who do you think you're fooling?"

Was she right? It had seemed like a good idea to go as Darkwing Duck at the time. But yeah, he'd just got done deciding not to be Darkwing Duck and here he was, in a mask and cape.

"If you can't do both," Gosalyn whimpered. "Then you can't be my…"

"Gosalyn, sweetie, come down," he pleaded. 

"No! I'm not coming down! Go away!" She yelled. 

"I'm not going away! Come down!" He replied. 

This was getting them nowhere. They were as stubborn as each other. Neither of them was going to give. They could easily be stuck here until daylight and then the orphanage would open and there would be a lot of awkward questions to answer. 

"This is ridiculous," he said. 

He grabbed the closest branch. The branch groaned when he put any of his weight on it. His best chance to reach her without falling would have to be not staying in one spot too long. He'd just about reached the branch Gosalyn was sitting on when there was a loud crack. 

"Dad!" Gosalyn yelled. 

Darkwing fell from about ten feet off the ground. So compared to some of his previous Darkwing related injuries, it was pretty mild. Darkwing laid on his back and groaned. Then his brain caught up with what he'd just heard. 

"Dad?" He asked. 

She called him Dad! Gosalyn climbed down and rushed to him.

"Are you okay?" She asked. 

"Dad…" he repeated. 

"Ugh, leave it to a grown up to focus on the wrong thing," she said. "Maybe you should be more worried about broken bones!"

Darkwing wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight. He gave her lots of sloppy kisses.

"Daaad," she complained. 

That had just become his most favorite sound in the whole world. She wiggled out of his arms.

"Guess you weren't that hurt," she said. 

"How could I be when I'm your  _ dad,"  _ he sighed. 

An idea struck her.

"Yeah, my dad is Darkwing Duck," she said. 

Darkwing returned to reality. 

"Is it that important to you?" He asked. 

"It's important to me because it's important to you," she said. "If you weren't Darkwing Duck, Taurus Bulba would have gotten me and grandpa's code and I would've been street pizza."

Darkwing pulled her into a tight hug. He didn't want to think about that horrible moment when that condor let Gosalyn plummet for the ground. 

"Dad?" She asked. 

"I just want to protect you," he breathed, pressing his face into her hair. 

"Well, isn't protecting what superheroes do?" She asked. 

He kept thinking of it as either/or. Either he let her go and she'd become a symbol to keep him fighting on the side of justice or he kept her close and made her his everything. How could he possibly have it both ways?

"I don't want you to quit being Darkwing," she sniffled. "I don't want you to become empty like all the other grown ups. I don't want you to hate me because I made you stop doing what you love."

He felt hot tears land on his neck. She was crying again. He knew he could never hate her but saying so wasn't good enough. She'd just spend the rest of her life waiting for her fear to come true. 

"Okay," he said. "You win. I am the terror that flaps in the night. I am the dad who adores his little girl. I am, and always will be, Darkwing Duck."

He'd be near and chase away all her fears. 

"Let's go home," he said. 

"Okay," she said. 

He carried her out of the orphanage grounds and to the Ratcatcher. With some reluctance, he placed her in the sidecar. As they were putting on their helmets, a car pulled up. It was a car he knew well and always dreaded seeing. 

"Gosalyn?" Asked Ms. Beatriz as she got out of the car. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone! Look at this short comic of the tree scene that kiraphmi posted on Twitter! It's so good! It's in the Ducktales 2017 art style and I love it!  
> https://twitter.com/ducksandart/status/1289558721312378880?s=20


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darkwing Duck and Ms. Beatriz take Gosalyn home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter just in time for father's day. Enjoy!

Gosalyn stood up in the sidecar and pointed an accusatory finger at Ms. Beatriz. 

"What are you doing here at this time of night?" She demanded. 

"Well, I forgot some files at- hang on!" Ms. Beatriz exclaimed. "I don't have to explain myself to you. What are _you_ doing out here at this time of night? Why is Darkwing Duck here?"

Gosalyn and Darkwing shared a panicked look. 

"She ran away!" Darkwing said. 

Gosalyn glared at him. 

"A-and her father called me to come find her and take her home," he explained. 

Mostly true.

"Y-yeah, uh… Dad wouldn't let me stay up late to watch a scary movie so I got mad and ran away," she stammered. 

"Dad…" Darkwing sighed. 

She shot him another dirty look. 

"Gosalyn, really," Ms. Beatriz said disapprovingly.

Gosalyn sniffled dramatically and rubbed her eyes.

"I know," she whimpered. "I shouldn't have gotten mad, I'm sorry. I-I just wanna go home to my daddy."

"Dad…" Darkwing repeated. 

_"Can you keep it together for five minutes?"_ Gosalyn hissed.

"Okay," Ms. Beatriz said. "I'll take you home then."

Gosalyn hesitated. 

"Well, I don't want to put you to any trouble," she said. 

"Does your dad not realize that you ran away?" She asked. 

"No, he knows," she said. 

"So you're not trying to sneak back home before he realizes anything so you won't get in trouble?" Ms. Beatriz asked. 

"That's not it at all," Gosalyn answered. 

She glanced at Darkwing. 

"I should probably let Ms. Beatriz take me home, you've got crime fighting to do," she said. 

"N-m… I guess," he floundered. "It's on my way. It's no trouble."

"I don't think I should leave her alone with an infamous vigilante," she said. 

"That's a good point," Darkwing admitted. "But I did promise her father that I would bring her home."

"Then I guess we can carpool," Ms. Beatriz said. 

Darkwing and Gosalyn took Ms. Beatriz's car back to Avian Way because 'surely your father wouldn't want you riding in a dangerous motorcycle'. Neither Gosalyn nor Darkwing could think of anything to say while Ms. Beatriz drove. They were both too busy trying to think of how to get out of this without Ms. Beatriz figuring out the truth. 

They pulled into 537's driveway. Darkwing hopped out of the passenger's seat. 

"So this is your house, little girl I've never met before?" He asked. 

Gosalyn pursed her beak.

"Yup," she said. "And we have met before. I helped you stop Taurus Bulba, remember?"

"Oh did you? Must've slipped my mind," Darkwing said. 

Ms. Beatriz rang the doorbell. 

"Say, is that a prowler over there?" Darkwing asked, obviously panicking, "I better go check it out!"

Darkwing ran down the street and over some hedges. Unseen by Ms. Beatriz or Gosalyn, he climbed onto a neighbor's roof and hopped across rooftops until he reached his own backyard. A few seconds later, Drake opened the front door panting for breath. 

"Gosalyn!" He gasped and pulled her into a tight hug. "You're back, I was so worried!"

Gosalyn croaked. Drake loosened his grip. 

"Don't ever disappear like that again," he said. 

He suddenly noticed Ms. Beatriz and gulped.

"I uh, suppose Gos running away doesn't look good for your inspection, huh?" he said.

"Well, I have to make a note of it in her file but it's not uncommon. You'll see at the support group," she said. 

"Support group?" He asked.

Ms. Beatriz took a business card from her purse and handed it to him.

"That's the address and number for the local adopted parents group," she said.

"Oh, I don't think-"

"It's not a punishment," she assured him. "And you won't make you look worse. If anything, it'll look better that you're taking advantage of all the resources available to make the transition smoother. Some new parents can feel isolated, especially if they only deal with birth parents."

Drake blushed. 

"I did lose my temper with Binkie, didn't I?" He asked. 

"I doubt you said anything any other parent hasn't already thought. You'll feel better if you talk to other people who understand what you're going through," she said. "And you can exchange tips for your specific needs."

Drake and Gosalyn shared a look. Then Drake smiled. 

"Thanks for bringing her home," he said. 

"Just doing my job," she replied. She waved to Gosalyn. "See you later, Gosalyn. And seriously, if you have a problem, you can call me at work or at home and I'll come running. You don't have to deal with everything by yourself."

"I know," Gosalyn mumbled. 

"Good night, Ms. Beatriz," Drake said and gave Gosalyn a little nudge. 

"G'nite, Ms. Beatriz," she mumbled. 

"Good night, guys," Ms. Beatriz replied. 

Drake closed the door when Ms. Beatriz turned around. Then he had to make a quick change, climb on the roof and hop across a couple rooftops so Ms. Beatriz could see Darkwing Duck jogging her way when she got to her car.

"No prowlers," Darkwing panted. "Just a raccoon."

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"Yes," Darkwing gasped. "Just didn't... want to... get bitten."

She nodded uncertainly. 

"You want a ride back to your bike?" She asked, getting into the driver's seat. 

"Yes, please," he said. 

Another quiet and uncomfortable drive later, Ms. Beatriz pulled up beside the Ratcatcher. They sat in the car for another uncomfortable moment. 

"Well, thanks for the lift!" He exclaimed and hopped out of the car.

"No problem. Night, Drake," she said. 

"Good night, Ms. Beatriz," he replied automatically, swinging the car door shut.

He took one step and froze. He should ignore it right? No one with something to hide would take any notice, right? It's not like it was confirming his secret identity. But then, why couldn't he move? Maybe he heard wrong. Maybe it was a test. 

The car kept idling. If it had just been a slip of the tongue, she would've driven away by now, right? She was waiting for his next move. Either that or he was thinking faster than time was actually moving. 

"Sorry, uh… Darkwing is supposed to be one word, not two," he said, turning to her. 

"Oh my gosh, I called you 'Drake', didn't I?" she asked and bopped her forehead with her palm. "I'm sorry. I was just thinking about work. It's like, you know when you get take out and the cashier says 'enjoy your meal' but your brain like already decided they were going to say 'have a nice day' so you end up saying 'you too'?"

Yes, he did know. He started to breath again. He smiled and tipped his hat. 

"Good night, ma'am," he said before driving away on his motorcycle. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, it took me this long to decide how to conclude Ms. Beatriz and Darkwing's conversation. I couldn't decide how much she actually knows or if she's very perceptive social worker or maybe she works for SHUSH or what. Like, I still have no idea. What mysteries are you hiding, Ms. Beatriz?


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bedtime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short but also pure uncut fluff. Relish in the fluff!

The drive back to his hideout was fine but the walk from the Autobahn Bay bridge to the house was exhausting. He suddenly wished they'd gone with the tugboat. At least, the commute was shorter. The streets grew darker and quieter as he approached the suburbs. 

Back home, all the lights were off, except for one upstairs. He didn't need to look hard, he already knew that it was the light in Gosalyn's room. He clung to the railing as he climbed the stairs. As much as he wanted to pass out on the carpet, he needed to see Gosalyn. 

He knocked on the closed bedroom door. The door creaked, opening only a crack. A single green eye looked up at him. He suddenly didn't know what to say. It was ridiculous really, he'd already spilled his guts out to her at the orphanage. Why was it so hard to talk now?

"I'm back," he said eventually. 

"Are you sure?" She asked, whether that was meant to be sarcastic or profound was hard to tell.

"I uh… I think we're in the clear," he said. "Ms. Beatriz doesn't suspect a thing."

The bedroom door opened wider, allowing him to finally enter. 

"That was close, for a minute there, I thought she was going to figure it out," she said, sitting down on her bed.

"Me too. I think I aged twenty years on the drive back to the orphanage," he chuckled. 

Gosalyn stared at her hands resting on her knees. 

"She'd have to take me away if she knew, wouldn't she?" She asked, not looking up. 

_ Of course not! She can try. We'd figure something out,  _ all were things he wished he could say. 

"Probably," he said, sitting down next to her. "If only because I think I'm still wanted for that train robbery… and escaping jail."

"Keen gear. So you're a for real fugitive," she said, relaxing briefly. 

"A necessary risk in the life of a costumed crime fighter. When legitimate law enforcement are restrained by red tape, it is up to Darkwing Duck to press on," he said. 

Gosalyn chuckled and rolled her eyes. Then she was solemn again. 

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I almost ruined everything tonight."

Darkwing pulled Gosalyn into a hug.

"If anyone almost ruined anything, it was me," he said. "I freaked out and that freaked you out."

"So I'm not in trouble?" She hoped.

He should probably punish her for running away, right? Wrong? He'd gone crazy worrying. But he got why she did it. And telling her that she could talk to him about anything, no matter what, seemed hollow. 

"Honestly, I don't know," he said finally. 

She was visibly shocked. Since when did grown ups admit they didn't know something? He kissed the top of her head.

"You really scared me when you ran away," he said. "But I'm so relieved that you were okay and…"

He felt his face warming up. 

"Well, I'll never forget today," he said with a goofy grin. 

"Oh right," she said. "Have I really never called you dad before?"

"Nope. I-It's fine if it was a one time thing," he said. "No pre-"

"Daaad," she groaned. 

Darkwing gave her several rapid fire kisses. Gosalyn rolled her eyes and giggled. 

"Is this going to be a permanent thing? I call you 'dad' and you turn into a pile of goo?" She asked. 

"It's only been one day," he said, snuggling his cheek against hers. "Just let me have this."

Gosalyn grinned to herself. 

"Daddy, can I have some 500 gram repeater fireworks?" She asked, making her eyes wide. 

"Aww, sweetie," he said. "Absolutely not."

"Worth a shot," she sighed. 

Darkwing kissed her cheek. 

"It's  _ way  _ past your bedtime, young lady," he said, noticing the alarm clock on her nightstand. 

Gosalyn whined as she got into her bed. He pulled the covers up to her chin. She wiggled her arms free.

"Are you tucking me in or trying to keep from escaping?" She asked.

"Don't see why I can't do both," he said and kissed her forehead. "Good night, Gosalyn."

"Good night, dad," she replied and kissed his cheek. 

After turning off the light and just before closing the door behind him, Darkwing paused. He wanted to fix this moment into his memory forever. His daughter was sleeping after he'd tucked her and kissed her good night. It wasn't the first time he'd tucked her in and it wouldn't be the last. But tonight was the first time she'd said "good night, dad". 

He touched his cheek as if he could still feel the imprint of her good night kiss. He finally closed her bedroom door. His eyes felt wet. How could tucking his child into bed move him like this? It was silly, really. He pressed his forehead to the door, taking a moment to pull himself together. 

"All right, that's enough," he sniffed. "You're going to have at least eight years of "good night, dad". If you get like this every night, you'll die of dehydration before school starts."

He went to bed and was asleep before his head touched the pillow. 

He cracked one eye open, still asleep. The room was still dark from night and the world outside was quiet. He felt eyes watching him and jumped when he saw Gosalyn standing by his bed. He suddenly remembered all the horror movies featuring demonic, ghost, or creepy British children. He tried to disguise his groan as a yawn. 

"What're you doing up, sweetie?" He asked. 

"I was thirsty but I can't reach the glasses," she said. 

All the dishes, cookware and appliances were on the high shelves for reasons that should be obvious. Darkwing got out of bed and followed Gosalyn into the kitchen. They sat at the kitchen table while Gosalyn sipped her water. He struggled not to nod off but Darkwing's eyes drifted shut and snapped open while he waited. Gosalyn kept glancing at him in between each sip of water. 

"We should probably keep a plastic cup for you on a lower shelf," he yawned. 

She didn't say anything, just took another sip. 

"What time is it?" He asked himself and looked at the wall clock. "2 am, that's funny. Normally I'd be out patrolling the city."

Gosalyn perked up. 

"Hey, why don't you? I can be your sidekick tonight so we don't disturb Launchpad," she said. 

"Absolutely not," he snorted. "I had a very stressful day and I'm taking tonight off. And even if I wasn't, you aren't tagging along."

"No fair, I helped you stop Taurus Bulba," she whined. 

"No, you were captured by Taurus Bulba and I rescued you," he corrected. 

"If you want to get technical," she replied. "Is this how you're going to help me to become a strong, confident woman?"

"I doubt you need any help there," he said. 

She took another small sip. For someone who was thirsty, she was drinking very little. His keen powers of deduction told him that something else was going on. 

"Gos, is there some reason you don't wanna go to bed?" He asked. 

His question caught her by surprise and she gasped. 

"I'm just not sleepy," she said. 

"At two in the morning?" He asked. "If there's something wrong with your room, we can-"

"There's nothing wrong with my room, it's fine. It's great," she said. 

"But…?" He urged. 

"Nothing, it's fine," she repeated. 

"I don't understand, I thought you'd like finally having your own-" he stopped. 

In the orphanage, it was a big room with rows of beds and at the hangar, it was a little bed next to some bunk beds. This was the first night since her grandfather died that she's had her own room. 

"Do you not want to sleep alone?" He asked. 

"No," she snapped but avoided looking at him. "I mean, I don't care. I'm not scared of sleeping by myself, I'm not a baby! You think I'm going to have nightmares and panic because there's no one around?"

"Are you?" He asked. 

"No!" She said. She stared into her cup, even though it was dark, he could see a hint of pink on her face. "I'm just not used to the quiet. I'm used to you and Launchpad snoring like jet engines."

"Sort of a white noise machine?" He suggested.

"Exactly," she said. She blushed more. "So uh… is it okay if I sleep in your bed tonight? Just this once."

"Of course, sweetie," he said. 

They tossed and turned but in the end, Gosalyn fell asleep lying on top of Darkwing. He laid on his back listening to her snore. He patted her head. He was still pretty tired, being this uncomfortable wouldn't keep him up long. 

Gosalyn woke up with a gasp. Already, the details of her nightmare were fading from memory. Only the bone deep terror remained. She looked around. It was still dark out. Darkwing yawned. 

"What's wrong, sweetie?" He yawned. 

He wrapped his arms around her. She lowered her head, pressing her ear to his chest. His heartbeat was steady and calm, the complete opposite of her own frantic heart. Fear was chased away. 

"Nothing," she yawned, nodding off again. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Putting the finishing touches.

Darkwing woke up at the obscenely early hour of 8:25 am. He found Gosalyn in the living room watching cartoons with a big bowl of cereal and Launchpad in the kitchen eating hamburger hippo breakfast burgers.

"Morning, DW," Launchpad said with his mouth full. 

Darkwing turned on the coffee maker. 

"Morning," he replied. 

He took a road map of St. Canard from the counter, it had been mixed in the stack of unopened mail he hadn't gotten around to sorting. The unfolded map spread out like a tablecloth. He marked their house and the Autobahn Bay bridge on the map. Darkwing looked at the map for a while and then drew a straight line connecting the two locations. 

"Not as bad as I thought it would be," he said at last. 

"What?" asked Launchpad. 

"The tunnel," he said. "It's going to be way longer than the one from the bay to the tower. But at least I don't have to worry about water."

"You're going to build a tunnel to the hideout?" He asked. 

"Yeah, it's either that or try to fit the Ratcatcher and all my equipment in the garage," he said. "I'm sick of driving back and forth. I thought either make the tunnel big enough to drive the Ratcatcher or set up like a roller coaster track."

"Keen gear!" exclaimed Gosalyn, poking her head into the kitchen. "Having my own roller coaster would be  _ awesome!" _

Darkwing rolled his eyes. 

"It wouldn't be a proper roller coaster, just a straight line," he said, pouring himself a mug of coffee. "The point is to get from here to the hideout as quickly as possible and vice versa."

"Ah man," she groaned. 

Darkwing and Launchpad started digging inside the house as soon as Darkwing finished his coffee. We'll set up a trap door in the living room, Darkwing had explained. As usual, Gosalyn was sent to the Muddlefoots' house.

"Why can't I help?" She whined as Darkwing nudged her out the door. 

"Because we're going to be using pickaxes, jackhammers and stuff like that. It's too dangerous," he answered. 

"No fair that you get to play with jackhammers," she said. 

"Heavy machinery is not a toy," he said, opening the front door. 

"Can you at least call me if you use dynamite?" She pleaded. 

"No," he said.

The next few hours at Honker's house flew by. Gosalyn and Honker were stuffing themselves with popcorn while watching Children Of The Fiendish Space Beasts movie marathon. Everything was great. Until it was time for Tank's dentist appointment. Binkie held Tank's hand and dragged him towards the door. 

"I don't wanna go to the dentist! I just went!" He whined, digging his webbed feet into the carpet. 

"Now, dear, there's no need to make a fuss," she said sweetly. 

"How come honk face doesn't have to go?" He demanded, gripping the front door frame. 

"Because Honker didn't have any cavities," she explained, grabbing and pulling him by the ankles. "You have five."

Tank glared at Honker. 

"We'll be back soon, sweetie," Binkie said to Honker when she finally pried Tank off the door. "Your dad's trimming the hedges. Gosalyn, will you be staying for dinner?"

"Uh… no," she said, her eyes fixed on Tank.

"Okie dokie," she said and shut the door. 

Gosalyn and Honker sat perfectly still, listening to Tank scream and moan outside. They heard the car doors open and shut and then the car drove away, leaving heavy silence. They shared a look.

"Let's go play at my house," Gosalyn said.

"Definitely," Honker agreed. "Can I sleep over tonight?"

"Sure," she answered. 

The living room was taped off and the air was full of dust. Honker looked around and saw a huge hole by the far wall.

"Uh… what's going on?" He asked. 

Gosalyn froze for only a moment. 

"We're installing a hot tub," she said. 

"In the living room?" He asked. 

"That's what I said," she replied and shook her head. "But you know dad, once he gets an idea in his head, there's no changing his mind."

She pulled him to the staircase but then they both stopped at the sound of heavy hydraulics. Drake and Launchpad rose out of the hole on a platform. 

"If we bolt the couch to the floor, we could have this platform detach and get on tracks that lead straight into the tower without us having to get up," Drake said. "I need you to build an engine to move it."

"No problem, DW," Launchpad said. 

"Something fast too. Darkwing Duck must be able to reach his hideout at a moment's notice-" he froze, finally seeing Honker standing beside Gosalyn. 

"Hi, Mr. Mallard..." Honker said weakly. 

Drake and Honker stared at each other. Gosalyn smiled guiltily.

"I can explain this," she said. 

Honker held up a hand, spreading two fingers just far enough apart to see Drake's eyes in the gap. 

"Your dad's Darkwing Duck," he said. 

"Of course not!" Drake explained. 

"You can't tell anyone!" Gosalyn said at the same time. 

Drake slapped his forehead. 

"So that  _ was _ Darkwing Duck's motorcycle driving away from your house yesterday," he said. 

"Hang on, you already figured out?" Drake demanded. 

"Well, not exactly," Honker said. "I just thought it was weird that a motorcycle would drive through here. I didn't think of Darkwing Duck at all until you mentioned him."

"You didn't say anything to your parents by any chance, did you?" He asked. 

Honker shook his head. 

"Seriously, Honk, you can't tell anyone about this," Gosalyn said. "Superheroes have to keep their secret identities secret."

"I know," he said. 

Drake looked at the floor. 

"Well, this slow rising platform is definitely not going to work," he said. "We need something that can get us down there and look normal again fast."

"How about a spinning mechanism like the zipper at the county fair?" Launchpad suggested. 

"Yes! Perfect!" Drake said, lowering the platform. "Oh, we should probably not use the couch for this. We want to make sure we're the only ones using this."

As Launchpad and Drake slowly descended again, Gosalyn rushed to the edge. 

"Dad, can Honker sleep over here tonight?" She asked. 

"If his parents said it's ok, yes," he replied. "But you kids stay out of the living room."

"So we can't watch movies or play video games or anything?" She whined. 

"Sorry, sweetie, I don't want you getting hurt while we're working here," he replied. 

Gosalyn sighed but didn't argue. She and Honker went upstairs. 

The next morning, Gosalyn and Honker came downstairs to find Darkwing and Launchpad still hard at work.

"Okay, so you push down on  _ this _ to release the mechanism that-" Darkwing started to explain. 

A trapdoor on the floor spun with enough force to eventually launch Darkwing into the ceiling. 

"Dad!"

"DW!"

"Mr. Mallard!"

Launchpad grabbed Darkwing by the ankles to pull him free. Darkwing groaned and rubbed his head. 

"Well, we finally got it working," he groaned. 

Launchpad let go of Darkwing. Someone rang the doorbell. 

"Just in time," he said. 

Darkwing answered the door for a pair of delivery men pushing two large boxes on dollies. As soon as he signed for the delivery, they were gone again.

"What's that?" Gosalyn asked. 

Instead of answering, he opened the boxes to reveal a pair of matching blue armchairs. 

"These will be bolted to the trapdoor with the trigger in the middle and our secret passage to the tower will  _ finally  _ be done!" Darkwing announced. 

Gosalyn and Honker sat on the couch watching Darkwing and Launchpad bolt the armchairs in place. Darkwing attached some discs around the trigger to make it look like a simple end table. 

"And one last thing," he said, taking apart a bronze statuette of Basil of Baker Street. He reassembled it around the trigger. Then he sat down in one of the armchairs. 

"Now let's see what a genius I am," he said, pressing down on Basil's head. 

The chairs spun around and when they stopped, Darkwing had disappeared. A moment later, the chairs spun again and Darkwing reappeared sitting in one of the chairs.

"Perfect!" He exclaimed and stood on the armchair.

"Keen gear! Let me try!" Gosalyn said, hopping into the other chair.

"Wait-" Darkwing exclaimed but Gosalyn had already slammed her hand down on the statuette's head.

The chairs spun and Gosalyn and Darkwing were still sitting in the chairs when they stopped spinning. Darkwing slumped down, clearly dizzy. Gosalyn bounced in her seat. 

"This is so cool!" She said. "We have our own amusement park ride right at home!"

"That's not…" he groaned. "It's for work."

"Dad, you have the  _ coolest  _ job," she said. 

Darkwing blinked, caught by surprise. He smiled. His daughter thought he was cool. 

"Thank you, Gos," he said. 

Honker watched Darkwing pace in front of one of the blue chairs. Darkwing loosened his tie, decided that it looked sloppy and tightened it again. 

"Can you guys hurry it up?" He called out. 

These slacks were tighter than he remembered. The dry cleaner must have shrunk them. Launchpad descended the stairs. He wore a sport coat and bowtie but clearly there was no getting rid of his aviator goggles. It was probably as close as he was going to get to wearing "something nice".

"So here's what I'm thinking," Darkwing said, sitting in the armchair. "I'll sit and Launchpad will stand slightly behind the armchair and to the right."

Launchpad got into position. Honker raised the camera. 

"What about Gosalyn?" Honker asked. 

Darkwing had to think. Maybe she could sit in his lap? Nah. She wouldn't want photographic evidence of being treated like a baby. Still… you never know. 

"Is she actually going to be in the picture?" Honker asked. 

"Of course she is, it's a  _ family portrait,"  _ Darkwing replied. "Gosalyn! Get down here already! What's the hold up?"

They heard slow, heavy steps coming down the stairs and grumbling long before anyone saw Gosalyn. She wore a dark dress with a little white apron. It was a very Alice In Wonderland look except for the scowl on her face. Darkwing went up to her and held her cheeks, just resisting the urge to pinch them. 

"Don't you look nice," he said. 

"Do I have to wear this?" She whined. "It's so dorky."

"Yes, we're taking a nice family portrait so we're all wearing our nice outfits," he said, guiding her to the armchair. 

"Hey, Gosalyn," Honker said. "You look nice."

"Not another word," she growled. She glared at her father. "Can't believe I have to let my best friend see me in this geeky getup."

"I thought you'd be more comfortable doing this at home but we can go to a photography studio at the mall if you prefer," he replied. 

"Daaad!" 

Darkwing hopped back into the armchair. Honker stepped back until Launchpad and the chair were in frame. Darkwing opened his arms. 

"C'mon sweetie," he said. "Come sit with daddy."

"No way!" She said, approaching the chair. "I'm not taking a picture with you carrying me like a dumb baby."

"H'okay,  _ fine," _ he replied. "Just stand on my left then. How's it look, Honker?"

"Like a descending bar graph," he said, looking through the lense.

"Okay," he said. "We'll have Launchpad in the middle. Gos, go stand to his right. That better, Honker?"

"Yes, sir," he replied. "Is everyone ready?"

"Yup!" Launchpad said. 

"I guess," Gosalyn grumbled. 

"Remember, people, big smiles," Darkwing said. 

"One... Two… Three!"

_ Click.  _

Gosalyn pulled down on her pigtails, crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. Darkwing wasn't surprised. He was already rolling his eyes as he heard the camera shutter. He wasn't annoyed either, which was surprising until he remembered picture day at the orphanage. She'd made the same face then too. And though he'd never say so, he still cherished that picture because it revealed her spirit as well as her face. 

So when he picked up the developed pictures from the photo lab, he still put the picture in a nice frame and hung up their family portrait on the wall. He put his hands on his hips and admired the portrait. Launchpad, the only one who knew how to pose for a portrait, Gosalyn, making a silly face and Drake, resigned but secretly pleased that his daughter refused to put on a fake smile even for him.

"Perfect," he said, satisfied. 

Now the house was home.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we finally reached the end of the short epilogue for Wild Horses that ended up being like 3 times as long. XD 
> 
> By the way, the portrait they took is here. As well as a great redraw by theobsessivedisneyfan on tumblr:  
> https://roruna.tumblr.com/post/614676422132432896
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for the kudos and lovely comments. They really helped keep me going. Thanks for your patience while waiting for me to post. You've been a great audience!

**Author's Note:**

> Care to guess where I made myself cry? lol I spent most of my time writing this listening to "Isn't It Love" from the Steven Universe movie on repeat. Except for the 'little girl blue' bit obviously. (The SU movie soundtrack has HUGE Darkwing Duck energy, right?)


End file.
